100 Themes  Hitsugaya
by Beff
Summary: Title will change.  100 themes centering on Toshiro Hitsugaya.
1. Blood

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Blood<span>

He slumped against the wall of the shower, letting the nearly scalding water course over his still-tense shoulders. He was nearly crusted in dried blood and dirt, and it coming loose hurt even more than some of the original injuries. That was one of the benefits of fighting with razor-sharp Zanpakutō at least, he mused randomly as he shoved himself into a more upright position.

One of the problems though, especially his own affinity for ice, was that his injuries would freeze and clot. Handy on the battlefield. Exceedingly painful when it time to scrape the grime off.

He rest his forehead on the shower wall, braced by a hand. The other clenched spasmatically at his side as the ice quickly thawed, dropping off to finish dissolving on the shower floor.

Then the blood began to flow.

He began shivering uncontrollably, clenching his eyes against the sight of the rivulets of swirling red puddling beneath him. He retched once, twice, from the pain, then slumped again into the wall of the shower. He slid down, leaving a momentary trail of red smeared downwards in his wake.

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><p>Ichigo pushed open the shower door carefully, keeping his eyes down and averted for the safety of his friend's modesty. Toshiro hadn't answered his knocking or his calls, and out of concern he now came looking.<p>

"Good grief."

He scrambled forward, grabbing a towel, landing on his knees on the side of the tub. The short taichou slumped forward against the wall of the stall, red streaking through his otherwise silver hair. His eyes were open, unfocused off on some distant object only he could see, unaware that he was turning the water icey around him.

Ichigo sighed as he carefully wrapped the towel around him loosely. The snarky voice in the back of his mind giggled. _At __least __you __stopped __keeping __white __towels __in __the __bathroom. __Saves __a __lot __of __replacement __costs_.

He suppressed a growl, despite the truth behind the words. That was neither here nor there at the moment.

The blood seemed to have actively stopped flowing from the now-defrosted wounds, and Ichigo was left wondering his next step. Dried blood was still knotted into the smaller man's hair, and he suspected Toshiro wouldn't appreciate waking up with it still there. Another sigh, and he reached for his bottle of shampoo.

_Little __bastard __had _best _appreciate __this_, his other half groused as he worked the lather up.

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><p>It took three repetitions, but he finally had the silver hair free of anything that didn't belong in it. After snagging another towel and getting the semi-conscious taichou on his feet, Ichigo debated. If Toshiro ever found out that he had been carried bridal-style into a bedroom, he was a dead man.<p>

_Oh hell_.

Deciding that there were easier (and less painful) ways to commit suicide, Ichigo instead just pushed Toshiro in the general direction of his bed. He had no problem sleeping on the pullout futon for a few nights if need be. With the amount of blood that had been lost, it would probably be the better idea to keep an eye on him.

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><p>Nothing would ever be said aloud about the nightmares Toshiro had that night, nor how the pair sat up into the wee hours of the next morning, talking of those whose blood Toshiro had come back drenched in. Nothing would ever be said of Toshiro breaking down as he relieved the death of his third-seated officer, or how he could still see his body dropping like a stone as his head and arm went in a different direction.<p>

Ichigo knew. He had blood on his own hands.


	2. Chocolate

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Chocolate<span>

Rangiku stared at the cake, eyes wide. She tried looking at it from different angles, but all revealed the same thing.

One delicious-looking chocolate cake, sitting alone on a plate, on the middle of the Kurosaki family's kitchen table.

This was no ordinary cake, Rangiku could tell. She was a connoisseur of all things sweet and delicious, after all. Captain Ukitake (and her continued association with Orihime and Yachiru) had taught her much about sweets – and deep down, after just one glance, she knew this cake was like no other.

Its top was iced in chocolate as well, and she imagined she could see its oozy, moist goodness seeping through the pores of the fluffy cake. The icing had begun to drip down the sides at some point, trailing tantalizingly down and onto the plate.

She drooled.

Another survey of the cake in its entirety.

Uncut, just sitting there. Innocent.

_Why __is __it__here?_ she asked herself. _Who __is __it __for? __It__'__s __no __one__'__s __birthday, __is __it?_ Not that she really cared. This cake transcended that.

She _needed_ that chocolate.

Fumbling through the nearest kitchen drawer, she found a butter knife. _Close__enough_, she decided.

Hovering, she bent down close, inhaling deeply though her nose. The obscenely luscious scent of chocolate permeated her senses. Her hand clenched on the handle of the butter knife, clammy.

She bought the blade down to cut just a small piece – surely it wouldn't be missed –

"Matsumoto!"

She went flying. "Yes Captain?" she recovered quickly, glaring evilly at he-who-interrupted-her.

Hitsugaya leaned against the door's frame, arms crossed over his chest. "Ichigo said that if he found anyone messing with Yuzu's cake, he'd sic Kenpachi on them."

"But – but – _chocolate_."

He sighed. He had been warned in the Academy – never mess with a Shinigami woman's cravings during 'that time of the month.'


	3. Sex

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved. This one was actually kind of hard - I decided to make this one short and use the secondary idea for a future promt.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Sex<span>

Sure, he thought about it.

He was a male, after all, so it was only natural.

It still was problematic.

He was a handful of _centuries_ old, and he still looked like a child. Those around him, who knew him, knew that he was anything but – but _appearances_ made things hard. Damned taboos. His rank was also problematic – keeping away those outside the Shinigami ranks. Those within generally treated him cordially, but even they couldn't help sometimes treating him as the child he looked.

That, and there were few in the ranks that he considered in that fashion, and those outside of them were all generally afraid of him.

He had given up on the notion of actively pursuing a romantic partner shortly after receiving his captain's haori. If he had been distant before, now he was untouchable.


	4. Love

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved. Just an FYI… I do not like Momo. I saw the episodes where she first appears in English dub first, and her voice makes me want to rip my hair out.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Love<span>

He slid his door closed quietly, slumping against it. Matsumoto and Hisagi continued on toward their own quarters, laughing as the conversation continued without him. His ears still rung from what Rangiku had said, and were probably still red from his ill-concealed blush.

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><p>"<em>Well, Captain? Do you?"<em>

_He hadn't been paying attention to the pair of Lieutenants, finding too many giggles from their conversation to be moderately disturbing. Now he wanted to kick himself – Rangiku had the uncanny ability to insert compromising questions into discussions, and then spring them on people._

"_Do I what?" The trio turned the corner that lead down towards his quarters, in no rush for once._

_She smirked, her bosom jiggling as she waved her finger (and assets) at him. "Do you love Lieutenant Hinamori? She used to make eyes at you, but ever since the affair with Captain Aizen leaving…" she trailed off, trying to be somewhat diplomatic. "Well, I don't think she feels the same way about you anymore. Do you?"_

_He could feel his face turn bright red, and suspected that if he touched the hilt of his Zanpakutō, steam would rise._

_Hisagi had elbowed his Lieutenant hard, earning himself a glare. "Leave the Captain alone, Rangiku. What about that guy in Squad 11 you were looking at the other day?"_

"_That meat head? Wouldn't know what to do if a woman sat on his lap-"_

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><p>Stripping, he made his way towards his bed, lost in thought as he dropped bonelessly on top of it.<p>

Did he love Momo?

At one point, he probably would have said yes. She had been his only friend, other than Granny, before he had entered the Academy, and he loved her for that. He loved her for being there for him, being as close to a family as he could hope for.

Then the fiasco with Captain Aizen…

They had grown apart, the vast gulf between them centering on her insistence that her Captain could be rehabilitated, or that he had not meant to do harm, or had been used himself.

He knew better.

She would never forgive him for believing otherwise, and he believed her to be foolish for it.

Her love for her own Captain left him out in the cold.

So did he still love her?

He cared for her. Though he would make non-commitical sounds in public, he knew deep down that he would always continue to do so. But love?

Love was something permanent, transcendent.

He didn't think he was capable of such a pure emotion. Ironic, for the Shinigami who wielded an ice Zanpakutō, who could make it snow if he didn't reign in his spirit pressure.

What was it the humans said? _Pure __as __the __driven __snow_?

He certainly wasn't, and hadn't been in a long time.

Even for a genius, there was no easy answer to this.


	5. Hate

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Hate<span>

There were few things he hated, both in the human world and his own. Hate took energy, and he rarely deigned to spend it on such petty matters. Instead, he was irked by things. Hatred was reserved for the worst offenders.

He hated Aizen. He hated what he had done to Momo and the the Squads. He hated losing Ichimaru and Tosen to that bastard. He hated that so many had suffered because of Aizen's apparently insanity.

He hated Ichimaru. He hated that the smug bastard had strung him along, exacerbating the situation even more.

He hated Central 46 for what they had forced him to do to Kusaka, in his Academy days.

He hated himself. He hated that he could have prevented so many things, but couldn't figure things out fast enough. He hated himself for hurting Momo, he hated himself for not handling Ichimaru after Aizen's "body" had been found. He hated himself for not being strong enough to defeat Aizen. He hated himself for having to kill his best friend not once, but twice, and being forced to do it both times. He hated himself for not being strong enough to accept hands of friendship offered to him, instead hiding his emotions.

He hated that he hated.


	6. Longing

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Longing<span>

Hyorinmaru had spent countless years on his icy plain, calling to the one being who resonated with his power. Somewhere out there was his counterpart, he just had to find him.

The plain extended out past him, as far as he could see, as far as he could _feel_. Unbroken save for a few rocky crags, its ground was as featureless as its sky.

He stood in its center, or at least what he supposed the center to be. He spun, but each new view was the same as the last.

There had to be more, he _knew_ it. Deep down, he knew that something would happen on this field, something important, something that would bind him to a kindred spirit.

Time traveled by as a stream, the currents ebbing and flowing around him. Snippets of the future? past? traveled along it, haunting images of faces revealed.

One face kept appearing, over and over. A small face, the face of a child, but yet not a child. White hair fanned over stunning teal eyes - that teal the only color in his unbroken landscape. He _knew_, as one knows to breath, that this face belonged to his other half.

He began calling, questing out.

His other half was somewhere out there. He just needed to find him.


	7. Missing

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Counterpart to the last chapter, by the way.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Missing<span>

A young, tousle-headed boy kicked a stone, watching it toss up tiny plumes of dust. Finished with Granny's chores for the day, and with Momo away at the Academy, he had nothing to occupy himself with. The day was still young, cicadas chirping madly from the bushes, active before the heat of the day rose.

For lack of else to do, he hiked up one of the hills that circled Granny's house. There, alone on the grassy plateau, he flopped over in the grass, watching the clouds go by. Basking in the sun, he dozed lightly.

He was on an icy plain, his bare feet crunching ice beneath his feet. Mountains were in the far distance, but he was nowhere he recognized.

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><p><em>He spun around, looking for any distinguishin<em>_g landmark, but there were none. He continued turning in his circle, eyes squinting against the glare. The pitiful amount of sun being allowed through the gray clouds still sparkled fantastically against the world of ice. _

_Faintly, in the distance, he could hear someone calling. So faint he couldn't make out words, it seemed to come from all around him, yet he stood alone._

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><p>He woke with a start, the sun nearly down. His hand clenched spastically at his side, muscle memory reaching for something, grabbing for something that wasn't there. He bought his traitorous hand to his face, regarding it carefully. He could <em>almost<em> feel something in his hand.


	8. Lost

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Set after The Diamond Dust Rebellion.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Lost<span>

He rarely drank.

It wasn't anything about his apparent age or taboos or anything trivial like that. It wasn't about the taste. It wasn't that he was afraid of any lingering after-effects.

He didn't like the loss of control.

But, after Kusaka's death (_Second death you caused_, the snarky voice in the back of his mind pointed out, ever so helpfully)...

It had taken him a bit of work, but he had finally escaped his Lieutenant. Matsumoto, bless her heart, had been keeping a close eye on him, concerned for his well-being. He appreciated the concern from her, as well as from Ichigo, who had also been lingering. He needed space though.

After assuring her that he was just going to tidy his desk, then go home to sleep, she agreed to leave the office, going off with Shuuhei and Renji for some drinks. He latched the door firmly behind her, shoulders slumping. Hyorinmaru he put carefully in the corner, unwilling to listen to the spirit in his misery.

Slouching into his desk chair, he opened the lock drawer with a silent kido. A fifth of whiskey, part of a gift courtesy of Kurosaki Isshin for saving Karin, appeared. _Crap, no glasses._

He frowned at the unassuming bottle, then decided he really didn't care that much. Two twists had the cap off, and he took a long pull.

The burn of it down his throat felt good, bringing tears to his eyes. Another gulp, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

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><p>Bottle half empty, he wiped his mouth again, only for his hands to pull away damp. At some point, the tears from the potent liquor's effects had ceased being that, and had instead just become tears.<p>

For the first time, in a very long time, Hitsugaya Toshiro wept.


	9. Found

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Set after The Diamond Dust Rebellion. Continuation of the last chapter. If you squint, you could make this out to be a lot more than it is, but this is , and I won't post that stuff here. I'm not adverse to the pairing though.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Found<span>

Ichigo growled at the door that refused to open, fumbling with the stack of papers that Rangiku had thrust at him earlier. The Lieutenant had looked decidedly worse for the wear after her afternoon, and Ichigo had taken pity on her, becoming temporary errand-boy. It was dusk, or what passed for it in the Soul Society – his shadow stretched long.

The door seemed immune to his angry grunting. Shuffling the papers under his arm, trying _not_ to completely destroy them, he tried the window.

Bingo.

It slid up soundlessly up the track, and Ichigo bit back a sigh of relief. It would have really, really sucked if he would have had to break into the Tenth Division's office. Toshiro would never let him hear the end of it, he was sure.

Reaching through, he set the papers on the ground, then crawled through himself, wiggling to get his tall frame in. Stooping to scoop them back up, he set them on the nearest table, then turned around, looking for Toshiro.

A white head rest on the desk, one arm tucked under in an effort to support his neck, the other fisted across the desk. An empty bottle of whiskey sat in front of him, lying on it's side, completely empty. His face retained some of it's tension, even asleep, and judging from the red blotches down his cheeks, he hadn't been asleep too terribly long. He flinched unconsciously, his young face scrunched.

Ichigo sighed. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was wrong and how the Captain had decided to deal with it. He had been quiet and generally withdrawn since the "Kusaka Incident" - even more so than normal. Captain Ukitake had expressed his concern for the young Captain, as had several of the other Captains and Lieutenants. He wasn't being overtly self-destructive... Toshiro's mentality would never allow for something like that... but his air of depression was stifling, for as much as he tried to hide it.

He put a careful hand on the Captain's back, holding it steady as the smaller man started to semi-awareness. "Ku-kusake?" he breathed, and Ichigo had a terrible sensation of deja vu. His shoulders began to shake silently, and he drew his free arm up to cover his face, unwilling to face anyone.

"Not quite, Toshiro."

He picked the empty bottle up and tossed it carelessly into the half-full garbage bin, ignoring the dull clatter. Working slow, he pulled the Captain's chair our, ignoring his effort to keep his face hidden. Pulling him up, he pushed him towards the couch, managing to rid him of his haori on the way. Ichigo carelessly tossed it back onto the chair, figuring he could deal with it later. Toshiro moved only when prodded, sinking down to the couch, chin still to his chest.

Ichigo sat on the opposite side, arms folded. His regular scowl was replaced with a carefully modulated blank expression.

Hours passed, and Toshiro didn't move. A few times it looked like he wanted to, like he wanted to speak, but he couldn't find the words to say.

Ichigo moved only to light some candles as the sun sunk below the roof line, then resumed his previous position.

It took hours more, but slowly, softly, the Captain began speaking lowly, giving the entire story of his life, pulling no blows against himself. During some of Toshiro's prior breakdowns, Ichigo had heard parts of this, but never the whole thing, never at once. Never did his voice raise above a hoarse whisper, nor did he lift his head.

He finally fell silent, not long before daybreak, hands shaking in between his knees. Between his slumped shoulders and blotchy, red eyes, he could almost be mistaken for the child he appeared.

The taller man slid over on the couch and slung an arm around the Captain's shoulders, sharing his camaraderie.


	10. Secret

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Possible and potential pairings introduced. Some are completely crack, just FYI.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Secret<span>

There were decided benefits to being short and unassuming, and being able to keep his spirit energy docile. He could probably (and legitimately) change the Tenth's specialty to intelligence rival Soi-Fon's, but he didn't relish the extra work. Or the notion of the fiery woman's sword at his neck for impinging on her territory.

Oh, the dirt he had.

Oh, the dirt he had on _so __many __people_.

Captain Yamamoto periodically went to see the Fourth (specifically Captain Unohana, nothing but the best for him, of course) about a certain issue he had been having for the last six _hundred_ years. Toshiro had been in for a normal checkup after a visit to the World of the Living, and had overheard from the adjacent examination room. Granted, he didn't want to know exactly _whom_ Yamamoto had been pursuing when he discovered his apparent erectile dysfunction, but it was amusing nonetheless.

Soi-Fon and a certain former Captain of the same division seemed to be _very_ good friends. Urahara had told him that after one late night in his shop, over saucers of sake, bemoaning his failure at enticing Yoruichi into his bed.

Izuru, still acting-Captain of the Third, refused to speak his former Captain's name, and only referred to him as "the previous Captain."

After having a failed relationship with his Lieutenant, Seventh Seat Yamada Hanataro the Fourth had begun spending a good deal of time with Shiba Ganju, of all people. The last he had heard, they were still sharing an apartment in the World of the Living, but that was about it. Hanataro had burned himself out badly after healing so many during and just after the Bount incident that Unohana had asked Ganju privately to keep an eye on her officer. Surprisingly, the man had agreed, and things were progressing.

Momo still pined for her Captain Aizen, and had cut most of her ties to him. That wasn't really a secret though. She was clear in her desire to "rehabilitate" Aizen, or that he was really working for all their welfare. _Yeah,__right._

From the Sixth, he knew that Rikichi had accidentally "lost" an entire flock of Hell Butterflies. Renji had laughed uncontrollably as his Captain had found them all roosting in the supply closet in the barracks. The slight jar of the door opening had sent the dozens of butterflies into a panicked flight. Captain Kuchiki had _not_ been amused.

Captain Komamura had started drinking. Not heavily, that would be completely out of character for him, but enough that he was definitely trying to blunt any emotional pain he felt. His Lieutenant often joined him, and they would sit quietly on the Seventh's balcony, discussing whatever came to mind.

Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake had long had weekly get-togethers with Nanao and Nemu. Their invitation had been extended to others now, including both of Ukitake's Third Seats and the trio of Lieutenants now running their divisions. Uzuru and Shuhei appeared periodically, but Momo had refused, insisting, "Captain Aizen wouldn't appreciate it."

Shuhei was taking the defection of Captain Tosen hard. He spent his days sequestered in his division's office, trying to do his Captain's job as well as his own. His nights were normally punctuated by nightmares of betrayal and of self-doubt. Toshiro had run across him one night, sitting on a roof with a bottle, staring at the moon. No tears to be seen, but he was obviously a man about to break. He had drug him back to his own rooms in the Tenth and sat with him, letting him talk it out for hours (much like Ichigo periodically did for himself). The Ninth had been hit nearly as bad as the Eleventh with injuries and deaths during the fiasco, losing all officers ranked above Sixth Seat, save for Shuhei himself. The next morning, or rather, later that day, after they had both passed out for a few hours, Toshiro had sent the Lieutenant back to his own division, along with Rangiku and the Tenth's Third Seat. "I can handle things around here for a bit, don't worry about it!" he had insisted as Shuhei looked torn.

His Lieutenant, dear Rangiku, sang in the shower. Loudly. Out of tune. Without knowing the words to the songs she was singing.

He had once walked into the Eleventh's division office, intending to drop off some paperwork. He had knocked, been beckoned inside by Kenpachi's voice, and entered, to find the giant man sprawled on the floor next to his tiny Lieutenant – playing dolls. A dollhouse had, at one point, been installed in one corner, and now Yachiru was instructing Kenpachi on the proper location to put the "baby." Kenpachi had glared, but obeyed, waving Toshiro towards the desk without looking. "Baldy and Maci-Maci made it for me," Yachiru had piped up, peering up from her dolls. "Will you play too?" she put on her most innocent face, extending a doll that had what appeared to be a buzz-cut. Kenpachi's glare was all the encouragement he needed as he plopped down.

Captain Kurotsuchi was afraid of the dark, or so he had heard from Nemu.

Shiba Kukaku had adopted the kid that had adopted a bird's form. Acknowledging that she would never be the kid's mom, she had offered him a place to stay and to learn.

Kurosaki Isshin, a former Captain of his own Tenth, had developed a "thing" as he called it for Captain Unohana. Toshiro wished him luck with that.

Jinta had finally matured enough to the point that he realized that not only was Ururu a girl, but she was an attractive one at that. His bumbling attempts at romance were giggled at, behind closed doors, by Tessai and Urahara. Ururu, for her part, just accepted them as she always had, with a shy smile and a stammer.


	11. Glory

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far – I've tried to reply to each of you individually, but I've almost certainly missed someone. Regardless, after writing so many one-shots that I never get any feedback on, it's really refreshing to get a review of any sort, and your commentary is much appreciated.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Glory<span>

At the suggestion of Renji and Ichigo, Toshiro had taken up sparring with Kenpachi Zaraki. Rather, Kenpachi had demanded through the pair that Toshiro come to him for sparring practice. The giant man acknowledged privately that he had holes in defense when it came to fighting smaller opponents, and who else was smaller than the Tenth's Captain? Sparring Yachiru was out of the question, completely. He had tried it one day, only to have the little monst- er, Lieutenant, perch on his shoulder and start poking at his bells.

Toshiro had readily agreed to the proposal, acknowledging that he himself needed to work on technique against berserkers, of which Kenpachi was a poster child.

They began meeting every few days in the training field behind the Eleventh's barracks. The first few spars had been semi-tentative – Toshiro unwilling to use his Hyorinmaru to his fullest and Kenpachi, surprisingly enough, unwilling to fit full-strength against the much smaller Captain. As the sessions continued, though, Kenpachi began putting more force behind his blows, and Toshiro released Hyorinmaru into his shikai state.

Yachiru would come and watch, safely out of the way, as the two Captains tore the training ground to shreds with the force of their combined attacks. Toshiro would generally end up losing to the much taller and older man, but they both acknowledged that they were both improving in leaps and bounds.

Their audience agreed. Over the weeks, Yachiru had spread through her gossip chain what the pair was up to, and off-duty Shinigami began coming to watch. At first, it had been members of the Eleventh – most notably Ikkaku and Yumichika coming. Hisagi soon followed, as did Izuru and Renji. Hisagi had looked up Hanataro and began dragging him along, generally to patch up the combatants when they were done.

Broken bones weren't uncommon, nor were dislocated shoulders. Cracked ribs and concussions were also regularly healed. In the beginning, Toshiro was usually the one worse for the wear, but as he improved, he began dealing just as many injuries back to Kenpachi, much to Yachiru's annoyance.

Toshiro stood, unsteady, Hyorinmaru before him and his spirit energy crackling the air around him. Kenpachi stood some dozen feet away, swaying, bells missing from his hair. They had been at it for hours, and both men looked like they had been through a war.

Kenpachi dropped to a knee soundlessly, head bowed as he gulped air in massive pants. His breathing was the only sound on the field.

The normal spectators all sat, stunned for a moment, before they all began cheering. He had finally beaten Kenpachi. It took him a few moments to realize it, and he began laughing. Imagery of the human tale of David and Goliath popped into his head, courtesy of Hyorinmaru, and he laughed until his eyes teared up.


	12. Time

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

FYI - Yes, I like the "time as a flowing body of water" bit of imagery. A lot. I also wrote this completely randomly, hence the lack of a name for the Espada and the vague details.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Time<span>

Time was a funny thing, he thought to himself, as he held Hyorinmaru up before him in a defensive posture.

Sometimes it raced past, its passage barely noted as events happened in quick succession.

Other times, it was like the ebb and flow of a tide. Slowly, things would be pushed onto the shore as the tide came in, or things would be yanked away as it went back out.

Still yet it could crawl, moving slower than paint dried. During those periods of waiting, anything out of the norm was liable to make everyone snappish and surly.

Time seemed to slow as blood trickled down his face. It dripped down, running along the curve of his chin, to drip onto the front of his haori. He didn't dare take a hand from Hyorinmaru's hilt to wipe it though, lest he not be able to get it back into place. His fingers spasmed around the cloth-wrapped grip as it was, and he refused to allow himself the luxury.

Time sped up to a mad rush as the Espada's sword swung down towards him. Two heartbeats and he had it blocked, skidding backwards from the force against him.

Not that it really mattered.

He was only buying time for some of the others to get away, and for some more combatants to arrive.


	13. Invisible

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Setting: pre-canon, but not by much.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Invisible<span>

It wasn't that he hated attending meetings that Captain Yamamoto called.

On the contrary, the meetings themselves were actually quite tolerable. They gave him an excuse to get out of his office, to go out and associate with the other captains, to escape from the never-shrinking pile of paperwork that Matsumoto continually stacked on his desk. Sure, he had perfected the art of sleeping while standing on his feet with his eyes open while the old man yakked on, but, as Captain Ukitake had told him shortly after being presented with his Captain's haori, it was as necessary to a successful captaincy as skill in his bankai.

No, the meetings were fine.

It was the layout of the meeting itself.

Somehow, he always ended up somewhere in the middle of the line of captains, usually between the two tallest, who would inevitable end up at each other's throats for the duration of the session. There had been some _very_ impressive fights over the years, all held like he wasn't literally underneath them. Captain Kurotsuchi of the Twelfth and Captain Kyoraku of the Eighth constantly went after each other with spiked barbs, and (thankfully) less-frequently, their zanpakuto. Gin Ichimaru liked to stand next to Kuchiki heir and just _slouch_, which would put the uptight noble into a tizzy. Ichimaru would also make lewd comments at Captain Unohana, which would usually set Tosen off.

Toshiro sighed in exasperation. Today's fight was going to be a good one. Kenpachi to his left had just suggested that Komamura to his right get a flea bath. Sometimes, being short wasn't too terrible.


	14. Glamour

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Not entirely happy with this one, I need to rewatch a few episodes for details.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Glamour<span>

The first time he saw his zampakuto, he thought he had fallen under some kido. The blade was just too beautiful, just too perfect to be real.

His hand wrapped around the silk-wrapped hilt, and a cold pulse went up his arm. It hit him like a wave, nothing gentle or reassuring about it. It was like a rude kick in the teeth, but he relished it.

It weighed his untrained arm down; it was heavier than his practice weapons. Everything around him faded to nothing as he stared at the long weapon – it was nearly as long as he was tall. He held it perpendicular to the ground, looking _into_ the blade, and he could feel himself falling in.

In his mind's eye, he was back on the frozen plain, standing in a plain black yukata, arms flung wide as he spun in circles. Snow fell around him, catching on his eyelashes, making him blink. In the distance, _something_ moved, something serpentine, but the snow muddled his vision.

A feeling of _rightness_, of _completeness_ pulsed over him, its warmth washing away the cold of earlier.

A roar echoed across the plain, and he finally knew his katana's name.

_Hyorinmaru_.

Nothing else mattered after that.


	15. Prism

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Prism<span>

He had been a lonely child growing up in the Rukongai. In addition to his appearance, he had been distant to many his own age, pushing them away. This was partly intentional, partly not. Hyorinmaru called to him nightly, amplifying his already introverted tendencies.

As such, he spent a lot of time occupying himself, especially after Momo left for the Academy. Hours were spent romping around the Rukongai, flitting from district to district. Granny would always make sure that he had something readily available to eat, or a bit of money to get something with – which he could never figure out why. No one else around him ever seemed to be hungry or needed to eat, except Momo, and now she was gone. He just tacked it onto his list of abnormalities.

He kicked a rock hard, watching it bounce off. He normally didn't come to the shopping district on market days, but something had drawn him today. A few coins clicked together in his pockets; he supposed he could get some dango for lunch.

The crowd pulsed around him, occasionally threatening to take him off his feet. He allowed himself to be pushed along, idly looking at the different carts and blankets spread with wares.

He blinked. _What __are __those?_

The vendor, an older man with bushy eyebrows, had spread before him a line of tubes. He demonstrated to a passerby, holding one end of the tube to his eye, the other skyward. The woman did likewise with the one she held, and beamed at whatever it was she saw.

Toshiro was intrigued.

The woman dropped a few coins into the vendor's hand and left, tube in hand. He quickly took her spot, picking up one of the tubes himself. It didn't weigh much, though it felt like there was something inside of it. A gentle shake confirmed this.

Then he put it to his own eye.

* * *

><p>He found himself sitting atop the hill over his home, tube in hand as he pointed it skyward again. <em>Kaleidoscope<em>, the vendor had called it.

Inside the mirrored tube, tiny blue and white beads shifted, catching the reflected light a thousand, thousand times.

The voice in his mind, the one from the icy plain, seemed closer now.


	16. Glow

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Glow<span>

Rangiku positively _beamed _at him.

The overwhelming desire to run and hide made him shiver.

But, as he reminded himself harshly, he had _promised_.

One dinner out, in the World of the Living, for her birthday. Just the two of them.

For all the difference in rank and regardless of his behavior towards her, Rangiku was the closest thing he'd ever had to a big sister. At one time, he would have said Momo, but since Aizen… Their relationship had continued to deteriorate in a downward spiral. Instead of being "as close as siblings" it was more of an "I'll associate with you because I have to but don't bother me otherwise."

It hurt.

Rangiku pulling his hand broke his reverie. Ichigo had suggested some good restaurants in downtown Karakura, and his Lieutenant had decided on an Italian place. Neither of them had ever had Italian before, so it was sure to be interesting, if nothing else.

He tugged the hem of his shirt down, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from the woven material. Ichigo had given him a polo shirt and some slacks from his younger days, so he looked acceptable. Orihime and Tatsuki had opened their closets to Rangiku, giving her a makeover for the occassion. Her knee-length skirt was a tasteful floral pattern, surprisingly from Tatsuki's wardrobe, and her top was, for once, not as revealing as it could have been.

He'd have to thank Orihime for that at some point.

He slung his jacket (too large for him, Ichigo only had so much in his size) over his shoulder, as he conferred with the maitre de. The man seemed off-put that an apparent twelve-year old was in charge of the situation, but he shook it off well. In Karakura, if this was the weirdest his night got, he was lucky.

He pulled his Lieutenant's seat out for her, being a complete gentleman. Hisagi and Izuru had coached him in this, and though he'd be loathe admitting it, Rangiku's grin made it worth it.

Menus open, he stared at it blankly as he tried to figure out what each thing was. _Carne? Pollo? Why can't they all just speak Japanese?_

Finally deciding to pick something at random, he set his menu down and picked up a breadstick. _No __work __talk!_ Izuru had shouted after him as he set off to pick her up from her apartment. So what to talk about? Weather? Too cliché. He bit his lip, trying to hide his discomfort behind his chewing.

She smiled at him, guessing why he was uncomfortable. "Have you heard who Lieutenant Isane has been expressing interest in lately?"

Ah, gossip. He could almost kiss her.

Almost.

"No, who?"

Rangiku grinned. "A certain Third Seat from the Thirteenth."

He almost choked. "No way."

"And what's more, he asked her sister what her favorite flowers are."

"How did you find this out?"

* * *

><p>After a relaxing dinner and desert (tiramisu was something he'd need to bring a recipe back to the Soul Society for), they had decided to walk along the river before heading home.<p>

They walked in companionable silence, watching the lights reflect off the water as the moon rose. Stepping off the path, they sat in the dewy grass, both lost in thought.

She didn't even realize she had shivered until a coat appeared on her shoulders. Toshiro was standing, offering a hand to her. She took it, her own smile broadening.

"Let's head home, shall we?"


	17. Song

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Listen to this song. It's amazing. I personally prefer Halca's version to Maki's, but they're both excellent.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Song<span>

Getting stuck in the World of the Living was starting to irk him.

Sure, he appreciated that he was there to make sure Kurosaki Ichigo's family (most notably, his sister Karin) was protected while both he and his father were about. That didn't make it any less boring.

Really, what had Captain Yamamoto been thinking when he had sent him here? At least with some of the other regulars to come here, they could occupy themselves. Rangiku could spend hours going over fashion magazines with the girls, both from school and Ichigo's sisters. Ikkaku, Hisagi and the others could all find ways to occupy themselves otherwise, be it walking the mall or just associating with their human counterparts.

Yamamoto apparently forgot that humans put much more stock in apparent age than Shinigamis.

Every time he tried to do anything any of the other Shinigami did, he got glared at or yelled at. _Aren__'__t __you __a __bit __young __for __that, __dear?_ His ears had burned after that incident in the movie theater, as they did again in recollection.

He huffed, flopping himself over onto Ichigo's bed. Even Kon was gone, probably over at Uhahara's shop. He supposed he could go over there as well, but to be honest with himself, he wasn't sure he was in the mood to associate.

A reflection off an object on Ichigo's nightstand caught his attention. _What__'__s __that? __Oh, __it__'__s __his __i-thing_.

He grabbed for it, catching himself before he fell off the bed. He turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out the technological magic that created it. Renji had bought one of these devices back already for the Twelfth Division to play with, from what he had heard. Ichigo rarely went places without it; he called listening to it relaxing.

It was a comfortable weight in his hand, if nothing else. It wasn't very heavy, but it still felt substantial, like he couldn't accidentally break it. A thin cord extended from the top, and he clumsily put the ear buds into place.

Why are they called that, anyway? Who thought of something like "ear buds"? My ear isn't budding anything, and I don't think these things can sprout flowers.

Remembering how Ichigo would flick the wheel thing, he succeeded in turning it on. For a genius, it wasn't that hard, even if the button-wheel-thing was a silly design. The screen lit up with tiny words, not that they meant anything to him. He pressed the button with the arrow on it, jerking as someone began screaming directly into his ears. He managed to turn it down without rupturing his gigai's eardrums, thankfully. Urahara and Tessai wouldn't be happy if they had to do an intricate repair like that.

The song (_If __you __can __call __that __music_, the snarky part of his mind interjected) ended, and the next began. "High and Mighty Color – Over" flashed across the screen.

The guitar rift started, and he found himself nodding his head in time to the beat. It was pretty catchy. Then a woman began singing, a strong voice, interspersed with a man in counterpoint.

His jaw dropped.

He wondered if Captain Yamamoto would approve an expense request for an i-thing of his own.


	18. Dance

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Still listening to Over by High and Mighty Color. Pull it up on youtube – look for a version by Halca.

You need to have seen Diamond Dust Rebellion to get some of this, sorry.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Dance<span>

Sitting against a tree in a semi-remote training field, Toshiro looked skyward, his zampakuto lying unsheathed across his lap. Ichigo had convinced him to go out and do _something_, to stop pining. _Stop __being __a __whiney __bitch_ was admittedly good advice, since he had been even more withdrawn since Kusaka's (second) death.

Another round of long heart-to-hearts with Ichigo had helped, and had left him with a welling of nervous energy. He didn't care precisely what he did, as long as it was something.

He stood and assumed a basic kata stance. He began, moving as slowly and precisely as he could, striving for perfection with his motions. He came to the end of the first and moved directly into the second, streamlining his motions.

He went though all the basic katas, and then went into the intermediate and advanced ones, keeping his pace smooth and motions fluid. Not once did Hyorinmaru jerk in his hands from a sudden stop; the transitions were seamless.

Clapping broke his concentration as he finished the last movement and returned to a resting position. He whirled, his haori whirling, mildly disappointed in himself that he had missed someone sneaking up on him.

The Seventh Division's Lieutenant rose from his crouch, his movements still stiff. Toshiro felt a flush of shame; it had been his escape from the shrine that had injured both Shuhei and Kira to the point of hospitalization.

"Stop."

He jerked his head up (_When __had __he __even __let __his __chin __fall?_) to face the Lieutenant.

"You did what you had to do, Captain. I hold no grudges. Lieutenant Kira doesn't either. I just came out here to get a workout in; I didn't' realize anyone else used this field regularly."

"I… needed to get out myself," he allowed, moving to sheath Hyorinmaru until Hisagi held his hand up.

"Spar me?" the Lieutenant asked, his palm open on the pommel of his own zampakuto's hilt. "You used some moves that I'd like to learn from you."

* * *

><p>It became another ritual to him. Sparring with Kenpachi was a battle of wills, no-holds-barred violence and blatant use of power. Sparring with Hisagi was more like a dance, two master artists honing their skills against one another.<p> 


	19. Beauty

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Beauty<span>

He never complained about missions off to the World of the Living; and it took Rangiku a while to figure out why.

The first night they crashed in Orihime's apartment he vanished shortly after dinner, saying he was going off for a walk. That didn't surprise her; Toshiro wasn't an overly social person, and living in close quarters with two women had to be stressful.

Not that he'd ever show it.

The second and third nights were repeats of the first. Toshiro would vanish, his communicator tucked into his pocket, waving off any questions.

Orihime accepted his "walks" at face value, but she didn't really know the Captain well, and was the kind of innocent girl who wouldn't believe there were any ulterior motives.

Rangiku, however, did know her Captain.

These "walks" were not his normal modus operandi, and this concerned her. Toshiro Hitsugaya was a creature of habit. Back in the Soul Society, certain things were done at certain times on certain days. Deviation from routine tended to make him cranky.

Yet he wasn't coming back from his outings cranky. Just the opposite, in fact. He seemed more relaxed and mellow than she could recall seeing him in ages.

A week went past, and the only night he didn't partake of his walk was the night it poured. He moped about that night, snapping randomly at her and Orihime for minor details, his speech reduced to the occasional grunt.

The next night, however, was beautifully clear, not a single cloud to be seen. The Captain pushed some noodles down his throat and grabbed his sweatshirt, saying he'd be back.

Rangiku Matsumoto was not one known for her subtlety, and she knew it. With this in mind, she took painstaking care in concealing her reiatsu, going so far as to ask Orihime to double-check her work. Finally satisfied with her work, she slipped out the window.

* * *

><p>He sat on the bench on the hill overlooking the park, watching the sun sink slowly behind the line of buildings marking the center of Karakura. Hands buried in his pockets, he exhaled heavily, staring upwards as slowly stars came out. His eyesight was perhaps a bit keener with the gigai; the star's twinkle seemed more pronounced. Then again, once he moved out of the Rukongai, he seldom had the time to just sit like this.<p>

He laced his fingers behind his head, twining through some loose strands of his hair. He could dimly feel his Lieutenant behind him, behind the treeline, but he chose to humor her and pretend he couldn't sense her. She, too, had lifted her eyes to the sky.

No matter how many times he saw it, it would always have the same effect on him.


	20. Repulsion

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Not really happy with this one. However, yay, I hit 20 chapters. Go me. Also, love to everyone who's reviewed. I tried to respond to everyone, but I might have missed a few.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

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><p><span>Repulsion<span>

He considered himself to be a generally mellow person, and he knew that the members of his Division believed him to be the same. His subordinates never saw the indecisiveness he had, his constant worry for their welfare. Only his friends ever really saw that, and how it effected him.

Somehow, Ichigo had ended up in that category. The short Captain wasn't sure how, especially with how disrespectful the human could be (really, so much familiarity), but he found we welcomed and looked forward to the discussions he had with him. He was an excellent sounding board, and since he was outside of the official hierarchy of the Soul Society, he could _talk_ to Ichigo about shared events, and not have to worry about general mindset from "back home."

He would make trips over to the Kuraski Clinic whenever he was in the World of the Living for any appreciable amount of time. Karin and Yuzu had, after violently threatening him if anything untoward should happen to their big brother, accepted his semi-frequent visits. He didn't even have to knock anymore; Karin (who could sense him coming) would open the door before he could.

Ichigo would invariably be at his desk or on his bed, doing homework. He was a genius in his own right, being able to keep up with a high-schooler's coursework while missing good chunks of time in the classroom. He would look up, see who was knocking, and toss his books to the side to invite Toshiro in.

Toshiro walked in, momentarily privately happy for the consistency in their routine. It didn't last long as he crushed the paper in his hand more than it already was.

"What's wrong?" Ichigo asked as he tossed his books into his knapsack, then leaning back in his chair so only the back two legs were on the ground. He folded his arms over his chest, somehow managing to balance in the precarious position.

It was obvious that there was something wrong. Toshiro's normal gravity-defying hair seemed limp, and the boy looked like the weight of the world was sitting on his slumped shoulders. He leaned forward, plucking the offending piece of paper from his grip, then pushed his chair back to where it was.

The Shinigami plopped onto the bed, like the paper's removal had pulled a cork from the dam of his emotions. He carded his fingers through his silver hair, then rested his elbows on his knees and slumped forward.

Ichigo skimmed the paper – it was a quick recap summary of orders from Captain Yamamoto. Nothing too major. "What's wrong with your orders?"

"It's not the orders. It's just... every time I see _those_ names... I think there might be something wrong with my gigai."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow as he traced a thumbnail over the kanji for Ichimaru's name. "Why? What happens?"

Toshiro rubbed a hand over his face. "It just feels... strange. I get this weird feeling in my chest, almost like an empty feeling, which isn't possible, since nothing has moved. Then I start to feel nauseous, even when I haven't eaten. Then a wave of emotions, ranging from pity to outright hatred. I think Urahara might have calibrated this gigai wrong."

He suppressed the urge to laugh at the Captain, knowing it wouldn't help. "No, I think it's working just right."


	21. Past

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed or favorited to this point. It's totally appreciated. (And fuels my ego.)

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Past<span>

His past surely haunted him.

Granted, this was true of most Shinigami, especially in the days and weeks since The Betrayal. There were few among the seated officer contingent who hadn't questioned their observational abilities, who hadn't gone back to mentally replay their every encounter with a member of The Three.

Captain Unohana set her brush down carefully, giving her final sheet of paperwork a few more moments to dry. Her outward serenity often belied her ever-active mind.

The mental welfare of the youngest Captain concerned her, though she'd be loathe admitting it aloud. In just the last few years, the boy had dealt with so many tragedies and pitfalls – many an older man would have crumbled. Being subjected to Central 46's execution order of his best friend. Being forced to participate (even if only in personal defense) in said order. The semi-traumatic way he had come into his reiatsu and zampakuto. His childhood isolation. The continued isolation and associated stress in being named the youngest Captain in the long history of the Gotei 13. Aizen's betrayal – or, more specifically, Lieutenant Hinamori's new, disassociated behavior towards her childhood friend. The second death of Kusaka, plus the aftermath of his severe injuries from that fiasco. Mix all that with the regular stresses of being a Captain and the problems they were all dealing with – Retsu was privately impressed the boy hadn't had a complete breakdown yet.

Yet Captain Hitsugaya put on the same face every day – a cold mask that kept as many people out as possible. She understood what he was doing on a scientific and medical level, and could even sympathize on a personal one, but she _knew_ it wasn't healthy. Shutting away outside emotions was the start down a long path of mental issues. Even the silly humans understood that, in their medical literature.

The ink on her page finally looked dry. It was a report from her Seventh Seat, still residing in the World of the Living. He had bought to her attention that Toshiro would periodically have all-night sessions with the Kurosaki boy. At her request, Hanataro privately encouraged Ichigo to continue them, or worked through others (usually that rapscallion Urahara) to do the same. The two boys had much in common and got along fairly well. If they could work past their past traumas, it would certainly be a help in the coming Winter War.

She put Hanataro's report in her outbox for her Lieutenant to deliver later and reached for the next sheet. It was a report from Lieutenant Nanao on both her own Captain and Captain Ukitake.

_Speaking __of __history_…


	22. Present

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Set during the fight with Tier Halibel. Very short because it's written from memory.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Present<span>

_Focus, damn you._

His own curses sound guttural in his mind, impressive for unspoken words.

In his mind's eye, the bastardized Hollow tugged _up_ the zipper on her short jacket. The force of the power contained in the concealed tattoo seemed to reach out to strike him, and he forced himself not to tremble.

_Stop __it __Hitsugaya. __You __need __to __focus __on __the __here __and __now_.

Hyorinmaru's steel clashed violently off the Espada's blade, sparks flying into the air. He wasn't going to fool himself – he knew the odds of him successfully taking out the Third Espada weren't the greatest, no matter what he claimed, no matter what his zampakuto's spirit whispered into his mind.

Metal rang off metal again and he was back on the snowy plain where he finally heard Hyorinmaru's name. The dragon rose before him, giant ice-wings blocking out what little sun the clouds allowed through. He roared, and the white-haired boy fell to his knees, hands clenched over his ears. Snow began to fall and –

_Kame take you and the horse you rode in on, Hitsugaya. Concentrate._

He was suddenly aware of a giant wave of water rising from well below them, and a well-timed shunpo put him out of its range.

I wonder how the others are – No. Stop emulating Matsumoto, dumb ass. If you keep this up –

Tier was suddenly in his face, and his world narrowed to pure simplicity. Parry. Dodge. Thrust. Parry. Apply reiatsu technique. Dodge. Repeat.

_I __wonder __if __she __realizes __she__'__s __helping __me __to __focus __like __this_ – was his last thought as he fully lost himself to the here-and-now of the battle.


	23. Future

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Yes, I know Toshiro doesn't wear a long-sleeved haori. Artistic license applied liberally.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Future<span>

It wasn't something he often thought about.

He was young, for a Shinigami at least, but he associated with too many of the younger humans. It seemed to be a character trait among them – nothing past next week was real or tangible enough for them to identify.

It did make sense, after a fashion. The humans he associated with in the World of the Living were all spirit-sensitive, with few exceptions. They _knew_ what was going on, what was at risk, and what was liable to happen if they failed.

So they didn't think about it.

It was as if that negative thought was anathema – no one spoke of failure, mentioned it, or thought it.

Plans were made for the spring and summer, no thought given to the upcoming Winter War or what its possible outcomes could be. They all knew it was coming, they just chose to disregard it.

He admired them for their fortitude and resilience, but it puzzled him. How could their resolve be that unshakeable, that come spring, they'd all be hale and hearty, and the world as they knew it would still be there?

It bothered him for a few days to the point of distraction. When Rangiku finally yelled at him to stop staring at the same piece of paperwork that he'd been on for an hour, he finally gave up. Securing passage to the World of the Living was easy enough, and an hour later found him standing in front of Urahara's storefront.

He couldn't ask Orihime, or Chad, or Ichigo. They were all too close to him, and he wanted an unbiased opinion.

"They're not in, Captain Hitsugaya."

Her voice bought his attention back to focus. Ururu stood just inside the open door, both hands on her broom handle. Her bangs hung in their normal odd way, her huge blue eyes peering up at him from beneath them.

"Who isn't?"

"Mr. Kisuke and Mr. Tessai. They went out with Miss Yoruichi and Jinta for a few things."

He found himself about ready to sigh in frustration, then thought better of it. Ururu was no regular human, and Urahara had admitted as much. Not exactly _what_ she was, just that stock human wasn't it. Yet she had full knowledge of all the current events and was as involved as any of them.

"That's fine, Ururu. I actually had a question I wanted to ask you."

She nearly dropped her broom in surprise. "M-me?"

He tucked his hands into the sleeves of his haori and sat on the steps, trying to make it as easy as he could on her. "Yes. Ururu… why do the humans insist on making plans that they might not live to see?"

She blinked once, twice. Stooping, she picked up the broom and set it against the doorjamb, then sat besides him on the stairs. "Can I ask why, Captain?"

He looked up at the sky, eyes distant. "I don't understand why they act like there's nothing coming, like its no big deal, why they continue their existences when, in most of their cases, there's nothing they can do to alter their fates."

"That's exactly why they do it." Her hands had knotted themselves into the folds of her skirt. "They know that most of them have no chance in helping to alter events, people like Kiego and Tatsuki. They can _see_ what's going on, yet nothing they are capable of doing can really help their friends. The plans they make give them hope that they'll all be there to participate, that they won't lose any friends. It's a way of offering support to those who will be fighting for them."

Toshiro pulled his eyes earthward and over to the girl. "Hope, huh? Do you suppose it makes a difference?"

Her eyes seemed to age. "It's worked so far."


	24. Foreign

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Foreign<span>

Grumbling, Toshiro glared at the piece of paper he had been given. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to participate in this stupidity?

If it hadn't been so juvenile, he would have stopped his foot.

Hyorinmaru chuckled in his mind.

He shut the dragon out, deciding his expression of a little petulance would be acceptable.

Really, what had Captain Yamamoto been thinking? Had the old coot finally lost it? Not only had he ordered all seated officers from all divisions to sit through "The World of the Living: An Introduction" presented by the Fourth's Seventh Seat, but now every one was on a ridiculous scavenger hunt in the World of the Living, traipsing their way through Karakura.

At least Matsumoto was off with Kira. One less thing to worry about.

His eye twitched as he looked over his crumpled list, the offending paper flapping lightly in the breeze.

Sit through a day of school. Check.

Eat at McDonald's or some other fast-food restaurant. Check. His stomach was still screaming at him for it.

Carry on a conversation of actual value with a human. Those humans who can normally see spirits excluded. Check.

Microwave TV-dinner. Check.

It wasn't that the list was hard, it was more that he had done it all already. He was, after all, a regular visitor to the World of the Living – few (other than that damned Hanataro) were here as often.

He scuffed his shoes on the sidewalk in irritation. How bothersome.

_Little one, take advantage of this opportunity._ Hyorinmaru made himself known again. _Take this as a chance to relax, to enjoy this world, appreciate the normalcy_.

_I suppose I could_, he heaved a mental sigh back at the dragon. He continued down the sidewalk, paying scarce attention to his surroundings. Hyorinmaru was right, after all. It was rare enough for him to be in the World of the Living without some major catastrophe brewing. Or worse yet, already in progress.

His zampakuto's spirit sent him a wave of approval.

Toshiro turned down the next street, only to stop short. A small crowd had gathered, all clustered around -

Oh Kame.

Captain Kurotsuchi, his gigai identical to his normal self (with an identical, ridiculous looking hat), was pointing his finger accusingly at a teenaged human male. Nemu, wearing a denim short-skirt that was scandalous at best, stood behind him, blushing furiously.

Captain Yamamoto had ripped his button-down shirt off and was posturing in what Toshiro assumed were meant to be threatening poses. Sasakibe, the First Division's Lieutenant, looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

Amazingly, Jinta defused the situation, appearing from nowhere and pushing the Shinigami away. "Don't mind them," he told the human onlookers. "They're tourists from America."


	25. Travel

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Not entirely happy with this one either, sounded better in my head. Subject to rewrite at some point.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Travel<span>

As often as he did it, Toshiro hated traveling.

It wasn't the actual trip to the World of the Living that bothered him. It was the incessant nagging feeling that he was forgetting something important.

Matsumoto and Ichigo both teased him about it. Or, at least, Matsumoto did, until he caused a snowstorm in their office. Now, she would just look smug whenever he heated out to the World of the Living.

Captain Unohana assured him it wasn't a weird sort of neurosis, and that it was a normal concern for most Shinigami.

That relieved him.

Somewhat.

Urahara had grinned at him when he appeared at the shop. At least, he assumed that was the storekeeper's response, hidden as it was behind a fan.

Urahara grinning set off his warning senses.

An hour later found him exiting Orihime's house after delivering a duffel bag of necessities. The girl had just looked at him, confused, as he dropped the bag into the closet with a crash. "It's just supplies, should I ever have to stay here again," he had assured her.

A second duffel went to Ichigo's house and into his closet. That took a bit more effort, as Kuchiki Rukia had a metric tonne of luggage to work around.

He flopped onto Ichigo's bed much later, semi-exhausted from his failed efforts to make space in the closet. Ichigo himself wouldn't be back tonight – he was still in Soul Society for some nonsense. Smugly, he decided to take advantage of a comfortable bed and no annoying Lieutenants to bother him.

Just to brush his teeth first.

He got up enough to dig through the duffel, rummaging for what he needed.

And stopped.

He rummaged some more, tossing a few bulkier things out.

Oh no.

Oh _no._

No toothbrush.

He facepalmed.


	26. Rest

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Rest<span>

It was something he rarely got enough of on a regular basis.

Up with the sun, all over both the Soul Society and the World of the Living on a daily basis, dealing with stacks of paperwork taller than he was. Matsumoto-wrangling took up a good portion of his day as well. Occasionally stopping for a meal took a bit of time as well. Rare were the nights he made it to bed before midnight.

It wore on him.

Granted, it would wear on anyone, but, for as much as he tried to hide it, he took things to heart.

He woke up still feeling tired. Folding his futon away took what little energy he had, and he waved carelessly to whatever Shinigami he passed on his way towards the office. He ignored any strange looks; he was used to them, after all.

He made it to his office and plopped into his chair, glad that his Lieutenant wasn't there to see his undignified entrance. The looming pile of paperwork, for the first time in his career, daunted him. His brush seemed a thousand miles from his hand.

Hyorinmaru stayed thankfully quiet as he began the first page.

* * *

><p>Matsumoto came in several hours later, her hair flouncing behind her.<p>

"Captain, are you all right?"

It took him a few moments to process that he was a captain, and that she was talking to him.

"Fine."

She looked like she obviously didn't believe him, and he was not in the mood to deal with her. "Go and deliver this to the Fourth for me." It wasn't phrased as a request.

* * *

><p>Captain Unohana looked up at the knock on her door. Matsumoto looked somewhat hesitant, a rarity for the brash woman.<p>

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?"

* * *

><p>Hanataro didn't like this.<p>

Not at all.

Not that he had a choice. The idea of his Captain being mad at him was terrifying.

That, and Lieutenant Matsumoto was behind him, close enough that he could feel the press of her assets against his back.

"Don't worry, if it doesn't work, I'll protect you."

That didn't reassure him.

Captain Hitsugaya was still deeply involved in his paperwork when they made it back to the Tenth's offices. Rangiku slipped in front of Hanataro, slipping a paper onto the desk.

"Still working, Captain?" she made a subtle sign with her concealed hand. "You should take a break."

He looked up with a glare, only to be suddenly facing the Fourth's Seventh... and his ready kido.

"I-it... worked?"

Matsumoto grinned. "And he's down for the count. Have a nice nap, Captain."


	27. Brief

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Starting a section of prompts where I focus specifically on interpersonal relationships. Trying to incorporate every Captain and their respective Lieutenant, as well as folks like Urahara, Tessai, and perhaps other World-of-the-Living-folks. I'll try to specify time/location in each, but fully expect a lot of them to be in meetings. Thank you, oh-great-Bleach-god, for providing such an excellent locale.

Does anyone know who was Captain of the Tenth before Toshiro? This is important/trying to incorporate it, and I can't remember if it's been mentioned yet. If you know, you'd save me a few hours of pouring over manga.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Brief<span>

Soi-Fong intimidated him.

Granted, she intimidated many in the Divisions, but that was beside the point. He often counted his lucky stars that he didn't have to stand near her during Captain's meetings. Where he stood in line was bad enough as it was, but to be near her and Ichimaru would be infinitely worse.

Today's gathering was emphasizing what he believed to be her primary personality trait. In the few minutes since the gathering had been called to order by Yamamoto, the short (_Though __not __as __short __as __you are, __little __one_, Hyorinmaru pointed out caustically) Captain had managed to say precisely two syllables, and those syllables had managed to send Kenpachi off into a fit of rage.

Privately, he was impressed, and made a mental note to see if he could pull off a similar accomplishment.

Outwardly, seeing as how close he was to Kenpachi, he didn't dare show his emotion.

Yamamoto had glared pointedly at the Second's Captain, but anything he might have said was lost in the uproar Kenpachi was causing. He had, up to this point, threatened Soi-Fong with everything from decapitation, to sending Yachiru over to her Division to be babysat, to cutting off Yoruichi's tail.

The tail threat escalated matters.

Some of the wiser Captains, among them Ukitake and Tosen, decided to vacate the premises, saying they'd come back after a nice long tea break. The rest clustered about, interested to see how this would all turn out.

All over four words.

Damn.

He wondered if it was part of a shikai skill that she had. _I __wonder __if __Hyorinmaru__ –_

_No._ The dragon did _not_ sound amused.

_Please?_

The temperature around him seemed to drop a few degrees, and Shuunsei of the Eighth peered down at him. He heaved a mental sigh at his dragon and gave up that trail of thought. Sometimes, Hyorinmaru had even less of an overt sense of humor than he did.

Soi-Fong was currently on her tiptoes in front of Kenpachi, her hand on her zampakuto. Waves of palpable anger was coming off her as Kenpachi made another foolish threat – this time shaving Yoruichi and making a pair of mittens for Yachiru from the fur. Soi-Fong responded in kind with a dangerous threat of her own – hiding his bells and replacing his shampoo with something called Nair that she had found in the World of the Living.

His admiration for the Second's Captain was at an all-time high.

Who knew that being told, "suck it, you loser" would have set Kenpachi off so completely?


	28. Verbose

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Does anyone know who was Captain of the Tenth before Toshiro? This is important/trying to incorporate it, and I can't remember if it's been mentioned yet. If you know, you'd save me a few hours of pouring over manga.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Verbose<span>

Head Captain Yamamoto was many things.

Cynical. Grumpy. Slightly perverted. A closet exhibitionist.

And quite possible the longest-winded old bag to ever inhabit the Soul Society.

It was early in the day, well before lunch, and the old man had barely started to touch upon the agenda for the meeting. That was all well and fine for him, he got to sit. The rest of the Captains were fairly well screwed, all standing in their lines.

Toshiro was regretting sparring Kenpachi the previous day. He was sure his bruises had bruises. Hyorinmaru was uncharacteristically giggling at him in his mind, and if the dragon could look smug, well… Even if he couldn't, he did a fair impression of it regardless.

How did the other Captains manage to stand so still for so long? It wasn't fair.

Not one of them shifted from foot to foot or _anything_. He prodded Hyorinmaru. _Remind __me __to __ask __Ukitake __or __maybe __Ichimaru __later __how __they __manage __to __pull __off __looking __interested __for __five __hours_.

Yamamoto shifted in his chair, his cane tapping the ground. "For the next item on the agenda, the Shinigami Women's Society would like to increase their budget due to certain oversights by its Commissioner…"

He impressed himself and managed to not sigh out loud. Everyone knew Yachiru had blown the entire budget on candy, and Ise had tried to bring funds in by selling photo albums. Everyone also knew that had bombed terribly, with the only pictures that hadn't been complete washes being pornographic in nature. Or punctuated by Kenpachi's hair.

Captains Soi-Fong and Unohana fought viciously for a budget increase, as did Captain Kyoraku. _He__'__s __probably __afraid of __what __Lieutenant __Ise __would __do __to __him __if __it __gets __turned __down_, Hyorinmaru helpfully suggested.

_Granted_, Toshiro allowed, crossing his arms in front of him and tucking his hands into his sleeves. At least like this, he could practice seals without anyone noticing. Not that he really needed the practice, but it was _something_ to do.

That, and he could dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from falling asleep.

"The next item, from the Fourth Division, is directed at Captain Kurotsuchi. They'd like to request that you stop stealing patients from them and calling them 'subjects'. Captain Unohana?"

The Captain of the Fourth stepped forward and launched into a diatribe on how evil the Twelfth's Captain was and that if he wanted to steal her patients, he'd best come and see her about it. Though her voice never rose above her normal tone, Kurotsuchi's knees began to visibly shake. He quickly agreed to her demands.

Captain Ichimaru was verbally reprimanded for replacing Captain Komamura's specially-formulated-by-Rin-of-the-Twelfth's-shampoo with a flea-and-tick formula from the World of the Living. Toshiro was amused that he was only being reprimanded for infiltrating the Seventh's barracks, not for the actual replacement. Komamura was actually quite pleased with the new formula and had requested a shipment be bought back from the next trip to the World of the Living.

Captain Kuchiki had a long rant session at Kenpachi over Yachiru's theft of koi from his decorative ponds. Many angry hand gestures and waves were used by the noble, and Kenpachi for his part did nothing to reply. Kuchiki stood silent for a few moments before he put his hands on his hips, striking a pose. "Aren't you going to reply?" he demanded.

Kenpachi pulled a wad of cotton from each ear. "You were done?"

Kuchiki nearly exploded and only the tapping of Yamamoto's staff shut him up. "For the next item –"

It took every bit of his willpower to not facepalm. _Really? __It__'__s __been__… __five __hours._

Hyorinmaru took pity on him. _I __can __see __if __I __can __stir __up __some __things, __little __one. __Assuming __you __have __no __qualms?_

If it wouldn't have made him seem completely insane, he would have hugged his katana. _By __all __means, __please_.

It took a few minutes, but suddenly Kuchiki was shifting foot to foot. Yamamoto peered at him from beneath his thick brows, but he kept talking.

Kuchiki finally cut in. "Head Captain, I request we adjourn this meeting until a later date, as many of the Divisions need the attention of their Captains."

Toshiro wanted to cheer as the old man nodded his head in agreement and dismissed the meeting. Skipping was obviously far too juvenile, but that's exactly what Kyoraku did, his pink haori flapping behind him.

_What exactly did you do, Hyorinmaru?_

The dragon again sounded smug, and the image of a toothy grin appeared in his mind. _I __told __Senbonzakura __that __his __master __needed __a __haircut_.


	29. Lord

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Thanks to those of you who pointed me in my current direction by refreshing my mind on who the previous Captain of the Tenth was. Cymru na Alethaira, xTKx, and skylark dragonstar get mad props and cookies.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Lord<span>

Kuchiki Byakuya.

Captain of the fabled Sixth Division.

Heir of the noblest of the four noble houses of the Soul Society.

Prestigious to the max.

To say Toshiro hated him was inaccurate.

He certainly _respected_ the man for his accomplishments and position.

It was his attitude that Toshiro found grating.

Kuchiki and he couldn't have been raised in more different ways. He had been born and raised a clan brat, with family and heritage to spare. He had grown up wanting nothing, knowing he had a place secured in both the Academy and certainly as a seated officer. He had never gone to bed hungry, or soiled his hands doing mundane chores.

Toshiro certainly had known all of those things. He had been adopted by the woman he knew only as his Granny, who had found him crying and hungry, hiding in an alley deep in the Rukon districts. Heritage? Sure, he had it. No idea what it was, though there had been some not-so-idle speculation that some relationship between Ichimaru and him existed.

Granny had done her best to keep him and Momo fed and cared for, but there had been a more than a few nights they had gone to be hungry. Only after Matsumoto's intervention had he considered the Academy. Natural intelligence had certainly helped him, but hours spent holed up in the library had certainly played their part. It was those hours of studying that had placed him at the top of his graduating class and had landed him an officer's seat.

He had no family connections to call on, not anymore. Momo… Lieutenant Hinamori… had shut him out entirely now. Granny, she barely remembered his name anymore, her senility was so deeply entrenched.

He snorted at himself, dropping the brush he hadn't been doing anything with and dumping his paperwork onto the "done" stack.

Even the way Kuchiki carried himself screamed of class-differentiation. Matsumoto had once called him a "stuffed shirt prick" and he couldn't find it in himself to disagree. He might be an ice-wielder and cold to most, but he had more personality in a hangnail than his fellow Captain had in his entire body.

He had friends he could call on if he needed. Rangiku, Ichigo, Ikkaku, Shuuhei and a handful of others were always there for him, even when he was being pigheaded. He honestly didn't believe the Kuchiki heir had that.

Perhaps Kuchiki Byakuya wasn't as lucky as he had first supposed.


	30. Lady

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Oh god, chapter 30. This chapter also marks my 20,000th word for NaNoWriMo, so I'm pretty happy and smug about that, I can't deny it. I'm still way under where I need to be, but I'm getting there. I have the next two days off, so I plan on writing/typing until my hands bleed.

Apologies for length.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

* * *

><p><span>Lady<span>

He had once believed Captain Unohana to be the most graceful woman he had ever met.

That notion was blown out of the water the day he met Lady Yoruichi.

She had been training alone in the early morning hours; he had been passing on some random errand when he had stopped to watch.

Every move she made – perfect. Precise. Punctuated. No wasted energy or motions, everything was presented in a compact, beautiful package. Her pivots were exact, no overbalancing. Her outfit was the same, casual and concealing, yet hinting at a lithely seductive form beneath.

Only her hair betrayed her economy of motion, the purple strands catching in the wind.

She had to have been aware of his presence, but she ignored him, instead sliding into the ready position of an intermediate kata. She began –

- And he forgot how to breathe.

She made it, not into a dance, for that would have been insulting to it. She made it into a higher art form, a thing of sheer beauty. It's true purpose, the practice of combat moves, was hidden beneath her seductive styling of the motions. Punches meant to break noses instead became something far more noble… he could read stories of her protecting others in those motions.

She finished, smoothly bowing to her invisible opponent, not even breathing hard. Wordlessly, still not acknowledging his presence, she flashed away, leaving him to wonder.

Even Hyorinmaru was impressed. _That __is __a __woman of the utmost class, __little __one_, the dragon informed him with a solemn air. _Obviously __beyond __you, __but __I __might __be __her __type_.


	31. Priestess

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I literally hate this prompt. I also know nothing of earth-based religions in Japan, so artistic license is applied liberally. I also specifically did not mention the name of the Division he was in, prior to the Tenth, nor anyone in that Division. I just **might** be saving that for later.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Priestess<span>

As far as he could remember, he had never been the religious type.

Granted, he couldn't remember his time in the World of the Living, when he had been alive, but he strongly doubted religion had been one of his priorities there, either. Your general personality didn't change when you died, after all.

He had been a newly appointed Lieutenant on one of his first solo missions to the World of the Living when he had met her. She couldn't have been a spirit long; her Soul Chain was still fairly long. Then again, there were innumberable new spirits in this area of the World of the Living. Silly humans with their nuclear weapons.

She had been a priestess of some sort, her semi-formal robes made that abundantly clear. She sat on the hewn bench outside the remains of what he assumed was her temple, hands folded daintily on her lap.

She looked up at his approach. "You… you can see me?" the pain was clear in her voice.

He nodded. "I can. I'm here to send you to the other side."

She laughed mirthlessly, her bobbed hair moving with her. "What is there, Shinigami? You being here, my being here… everything I've learned, I've taught, I've _believed_ has been thrown to the wind."

He sat besides her, adjusting his zanpakuto's sheath carefully. "What kind of religion do you hold?" he asked, legitimately interested.

"I am a priestess of Gaia, of Mother Earth. We hold – held – that upon death we'd rejoin the River of Life and be reborn into the next generation."

He bit his lip. "It's not exactly quite like that, I'm sorry."

She frowned. "Kind of late now for apologies, isn't it? Will… will you tell me one thing though?"

Toshiro nodded. "Certainly."

"Will it hurt again? It… hurt, a lot, when I died."

He took a moment to really _look_ at her, and realized she was much younger than his original estimate. Her kimono made her look much older than her years, and did much to hide her fearful shivers. Awkwardly, he reached out and took her hand gently in his own. "No, it won't. You're destined for a beautiful place, so do not worry."

Never before had the trite words he had been taught at the Academy sounded so _right_. They had always seemed force, fake. Now though, they seemed to legitimately be making the priestess feel better. Some of the stressed pain had left her face, and she squeezed his hand in silent thanks.

"May… may I also ask a favor?"

Again he nodded. "If it is within my power, I will do what I can to grant it."

"I'd very much like to see one last sunset."

* * *

><p>He arrived back to his Division's barracks later than projected. He waved carelessly at the sentries on duty and tossed his travel kit into his room.<p>

He had the strangest urge to watch the moonrise tonight.


	32. Dungeon

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Dungeon<span>

He had only made the mistake of looking at Lieutenant Kurotsuchi from behind once.

It hadn't even been intentional.

Back when he had been a lieutenant, he had come out of the library, stack of books under his arm, and had caught his shoulder against hers, completely by accident. He had turned to see who he had bumped, to apologize, and only got a view of legs that seemed to go to the sky, and then higher. It was... majestic.

The woman, more of a girl, really, gave him a passing glance as she hurried on, and he was personally amazed that her kimono never revealed anything scandalous.

Being as sidetracked as he was by the scenery, it wasn't too much of a surprise that his forward momentum carried him directly into someone else.

He landed on the floor in a seated position, armload of books still successfully safe.

Feet. Okaaaay, normal tabi. Regular black shihakushō. White haori.

_Oh fuck_.

Purple scarf.

_Shit_.

Of all the Captains he could have bumped into, it had to have been Kurotsuchi Mayuri? Really? Even Kenpachi would have been preferable to this. Well... not by much, but definitely preferable.

Captain Kurotsuchi leered down at him, his painted face even scarier than normal.

Not that he should be afraid of his fellow Shinigami, a comrade in arms.

Strike that. He was terrified.

The Captain took a step forward, putting himself firmly into Toshiro's personal space. He suppressed the urge to shudder as he scrambled to his feet.

"C-Captain Kurotsuchi. Good morning, sir," he tried to regain the scraps of his pride as he readjusted his stack of books. "How are you today, sir?" He managed to avoid tripping over his own tongue.

The taller man _leered_ down at him. "Did you like the view, Lieutenant?"

"Sir?"

"You apparently liked what you saw of my _daughter_," he purposely emphasized the word. "What is your opinion, Lieutenant?"

He stuttered. There was no right answer to this question, and he knew it. If he said anything derogatory about his daughter, he was a dead man. Everyone had heard stories about the Twelfth's mad Captain and his experimentation. Rumor had it that he had test subjects that hadn't seen the light of day since he had taken over the Division, some 80 plus years previous. Rumor further had it that certain members of his own Division had gone missing on routine patrols around the Soul Society and had never been seen again.

_H god_, his mind when into overdrive. _I'm going to end up an experiment. I'm going to end up in one of his dungeons, and no one is ever going to see me again. I'm never going to get to say goodbye to Momo. Or Granny. Oh Kame. What are they going to tell Granny? This will be the death of her for sure_. He was well on the path to hyperventilation.

Kurotsuchi glared at him, leaning down, closer and closer, until his nose was almost touching Toshiro's. The younger man was doing his best to not pass out, eyes locked into the dark eyes of of the Captain. Kutotsuchi's arm moved, and he _knew_ for sure that his zanpakuto was being drawn, and that his life, like a candle, was about to be snuffed out.

The Captain reached a skeletal finger out and poked Toshiro's nose. "Boo."

He was later told that his scream was audible all the way out in the Thirtieth district of the Rukongai.


	33. Library

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

The kido's incantation was quoted directly from , since I really didn't feel the need to go and sit with my dictionary out to translate it from the episode. Credit to the wikia editors.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Library<span>

After Kusaka's death and his own graduation from the Academy, he had thrown himself into research and what qualified as upper-division schoolwork in the Soul Society. The repetitive nature of the work relaxed him, and kept his mind off the stresses that were threatening to overwhelm him. In books he found his peace.

And it was in the Soul Society's main library, the one attached to the Academy, that he met Ise Nanao. She had been the seated Lieutenant for the Eighth for a few decades already, and even from his time at the Academy, he recognized her face as a regular.

They had known, at least of each other, for months before they had actually introduced themselves.

Toshiro had been working on some upper-level kido incantation that just would not click for him. It was rare enough that he needed an incantation to begin with – for one to be giving him problems was seriously vexing him.

_Stupid __Senjū Kōten Taihō, _he thought viciously, glaring at the Level 91 incantation. He had done others of this level that hadn't bothered him, so why was this one being so problematic?

_Limit of the thousands hands, respectful hands, unable to touch the darkness. Shooting hands unable to reflect the blue sky. The road that basks in light, the wind that ignited the embers, time that gathers when both are together, there is no need to be hesitant, obey my orders. Light bullets, eight bodies, nine items, book of heaven, diseased treasure, great wheel, grey fortress tower. Aim far away, scatter brightly and cleanly when fired._

Maybe it was because the damned thing was so _long_. Really? As a combat-kido, no less. Was it really practical to recite what amounted to a book in combat? _Yes, please Mr. Hollow, sir. Please hold still a moment while I read you this chapter._ Oh yeah. That was going to be really effective. Heavens forbid if you forgot a word either. You'd either have to dispel the reiatsu you'd already gathered for the current incantation, or keep going, and hope like hell that it wasn't going to blow you up instead of your target.

He had been at the incantation for hours and he just could not get it to click. The words, phrases themselves were fine, it was where specifically to apply the reiatsu he was having problems with. Granted, it wasn't something he could really _test_, per se, in a library, but minute applications of power should have _clicked_.

They weren't.

He groaned, slumping forward to catch his head in his hands. It was now a matter of personal pride to master the damned kido.

The chair opposite his pulled out with a scrape on the wood floor.

He cracked an eye open, peering out between his fanned fingers. Lieutenant Ise sat across from him, her normal tome set before her, hair tucked behind her ear. He straightened quickly to his companion.

"Lieutenant Ise, can I help you?"

She gave him a half smile. "Actually Lieutenant, that was what I was going to ask you. You were looking a little stressed out."

He laughed a mirthless laugh. "That's a bit of an understatement, I'm afraid. I've been working on this for hours and I just can't get it to cooperate."

She pulled his book from him and peered at the incantation. "Have you tried applying your kido specifically where it says 'no need to be hesitant'? Then again at 'aim far away'? Those are the triggers in the incantation."

His eyes opened wide. "You mean not at 'ignite the embers'?"

"No, if you do it there, you're liable to have it blow up in your face by overloading it."

Grins were shared and, after a short trip to a practice field, trees were exploded.


	34. Stable

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

This doesn't _quite_ fit in with canon, oh well. I know no one has been officially named as Captain for the Tenth, so I decided to work out some back story. We can assume that the previous Captain is still alive, but we also know that no one knows who he/she is. We also know that Isshin's reiatsu is unfamiliar to the current group of seated officers. Artistic license is a wonderful thing. The general ideas contained here are going to come back into play in a few chapters, so enjoy.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Stable (Stability)<span>

It was an aspect that his life was lacking, for as much as it seemed otherwise.

Sure, his life had routine, but after Aizen's defection and betrayal, after Momo's abandoning of him, there was something missing. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, put a name to it, but he _knew_ there was something he didn't have. He put it aside and tried not to think of it, but it was always there in the back of his mind.

He didn't really give it much thought until he was stuck in the World of the Living. Orihime had invited some friends from school over, and since it was "girls night" he had been politely invited to crash at Ichigo's.

Not that he minded. The idea of a hoard of teenage females plus Matsumoto terrified him.

So, it was at Ichigo's he found himself that night, knapsack with his few essentials slung over his shoulder. Ichigo had taken his sisters out for some groceries, and he had invited Toshiro stick around. The Captain had agreed, not really in the mood to face the dire perils of shopping in the World of the Living. Besides, having been invited to Kurosaki family dinner sounded draining, and he felt the need to rest up before it.

Kurosaki Isshin had led him up to Ichigo's room and told him to make himself at home, which he did. Knapsack went into the closet (Rukia wasn't around, so he didn't feel bad about tossing it into her hodgepodge of stuff) and his jacket went onto a hangar. He did a belly-flop onto the bed, arms spread wide. Not even Kon was around to bug him for once; Rukia had hauled him over to Orihime's with her.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew there was knocking on the door. Kurosaki Isshin stuck his head inside, his normally expressive face serious. "Are you awake, Toshiro?" he asked, pushing the door open.

"Er, yes, Mr. Kurosa-"

"No need to be formal, _Captain_. Or to beat around the bush." He gestured to Ichigo's empty chair. "May I?"

He nodded, trying to hide his surprise, and the older man seated himself.

"Hitsugaya Toshiro, Captain of the Tenth Division of the Gotei 13. Your second is Matsumoto Rangiku, and when you assumed command of the Tenth, you switched their specialty to intelligence-related activities, though it very much still is a combat unit. Am I missing anything?"

Toshiro squeaked, then bit his tongue. "H-how did you... Did Ichigo tell you?" There was no point in denying anything. There was no way he could have gotten that much information without some serious connections to the Soul Society. If Ichigo had been flapping his mouth, he was going to personally -

Isshin grinned, the normal expression suiting his face better than the serious one of earlier. "No. He actually just found out recently that I know that he's a Shinigami. I, well. Maybe it's easier if I show you." Half a moment later and his body was slack in the chair and his spirit-self was sitting cross legged on the bed besides him.

He wore what looked to be a normal shihakushō with an armor plate over one shoulder. What looked like a folded haori hung down his back, giving him a bit of a spartan air. A zanpakuto hung conspicuously at his side.

Toshiro couldn't help it. He squeaked again. "Y-you... you're a Shinigami, too? That means Ichigo-"

"Is, by definition, a full-blood Shinigami. Yes."

"But why?"

The serious look returned as he slid back into his corporeal body. "A long time ago, I was a Captain. I was promoted into the Royal Guard, where I met Ichigo's mother, quite by accident. Because of my position, we weren't permitted to have an official relationship. When she ended up pregnant, I took, what was in essence, an exile here. My reiatsu was sealed, the seal set to expire on the day my eldest child turned sixteen. It was the only way to keep my children safe."

"It didn't work well."

"No." He snorted. "It was never imagined that my children would take so strongly after myself. What had started as a way to protect my family ended up signing my wife's death sentence."

Toshiro bit his lip. "Why are you telling me this?"

Dark brown eyes stared at him. Suddenly, he got up and knelt formally at Toshiro's feet, bowing at the waist. "Captain Hitsugaya, I beg favors as a previous captain of the Tenth Division of the Gotei 13."

Toshiro gaped. _No wonder why no one speaks of my predecessor. I knew the position was open for several decades before I was seated, but it would make sense no one would know what happened to the previous Captain if he went into the Royal Guard. They're known for being as obnoxiously close-lipped as the Kido Corps._

He slipped into formality easily, standing. He'd have to thank Ukitake for his lessons. "If it is within my power, Captain Kurosaki, I will do as you request."

Isshin didn't look up. "Firstly, I would request that my son, Ichigo, be accepted as a member of the Tenth Division. He needs more guidance than I can always give him, and the comradeship you and yours have shown him is a wonderful gift."

"Done." He didn't even have to think about it. Certainly, it would provide for Ichigo what Isshin had said, but it would probably also help to reign in the headstrong teenager. He'd keep it off the records until such time as needed, but he could certainly extend whatever protections he could.

"Second. Should anything happen to myself and/or to Ichigo, I request that you take my daughters as wards. Urahara Kisuke has already agreed to house them as needed, but they are both at quite a risk, being as sensitive as they are."

"Also done." That also didn't require any thought. The girls would be very much at risk should anything happen to either their father or their brother, and he wasn't entirely sure Urahara was prepared to deal with two more children. Ururu was fine and docile, but adding Yuzu and Karin to Jinta's antics would be enough to break anyone.

"One final request, Captain Hitsugaya." Only now did Isshin look up, though his forehead remained just above the floor. "We – my children and I – have discussed this. We would like you, as previous Captain and as a friend, to join our family."

His jaw dropped and pieces snapped together in his mind. _This_ is what he had been missing. The stability of having a family. Since Granny's senility had advanced to the point where she couldn't remember his name, and Momo had shut him out completely in favor of Aizen, it had been something he had been devoid of. Sure, he had his squad, but there he had to maintain a professional attitude, aloof. Matsumoto was by far the closest to him there, but she had a family structure of her own. As much as she had invited him in, he had never felt comfortable there. He reminded everyone in that age group of Ichimaru Gin – both childhood geniuses.

Here, though... he could be himself around those who actually _understood_.

_Master, this thing he asks of you - _

_I know, Hyorinmaru. _

He slowly grinned as he forced his eyes to _not_ get misty. He bowed deeply to Isshin, still on his knees. "Sir. Captain Kurosaki. I would be honored to be your son."

The moment was shattered as Isshin someone went from his knees to head-locking Toshiro in a heartbeat. He wasn't sure how the man managed to _shunpo_ through his house, but he did, and he found himself in front of the wall-shrine to Kurosaki Masaki.

"Beautiful wife! We have a second son now!" Isshin wailed, back to himself.

* * *

><p>Nothing was spoken over dinner about his conversation with Isshin, for which he was glad. Being adopted wasn't going to make him any less comfortable with publicly showing his feelings.<p>

But he enjoyed it immensely when the girls bid him goodnight with knowing smiles, and Ichigo told him bluntly that he got to help with the dishes since he was no longer a guest.


	35. Shaky

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Wow. Just wow. The response from the last chapter completely amazed me. To everyone who reviewed, thank you so much. Constructive criticism is amazing, and the amount I've gotten is really motivational. My next story is going to be a full version of Isshin's history, based on the last prompt. On a side note, this is officially my most-reviewed-upon piece, and I'm really happy to say that this is some of my best writing, based on the criticism/ideas I've gotten.

Set sometime before the introduction of the Arrancar, but before Diamond Dust.

I don't like Lieutenant Kira Uzuru. Hope this helps.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Shaky<span>

His relationship with Kira Izuru had always been strained, at best.

He had been a close friend of Momo's throughout her Academy years, and after, when they had both been newly seated officers in their respective divisions.

He had been alongside her when his Captain and her own betrayed all who knew them. He had raised a blade, granted to protect his own Captain, against her.

As such, he did his very best to avoid the Tenth's Captain when he could.

Guilt?

_Possibly_, Hyorinmaru confirmed. _His __Captain __did __actively __try __to __kill __you __several __times, __if __I __recall __correctly._

Dumb, snarky dragon.

_Flattery __will __get __you __nowhere, __young __one._ The mental impression of a toothy grin was hard to shake. _Of __those __who __were __betrayed, __think __of __how __he __was __affected, and of how badly he was hurt by it._

Hm. _How __so? __Stop __being __cryptic._

Hyorinmaru's snort would have deafened him had it been audible. _His __Captain __betrayed __him. __That __betrayal __led __him __to __betray __one __of __his __closest __friends, __sending __her __off __to __try __to __kill __a __dear __friend of hers. __That __close __friend __of __his __is __still __convalescing, __and __will __be __for __some__time. The Lieutenant of the Captain he tried to kill was also hurt by all of this. You know how emotional Lieutenant Kira can get, little one. How could this entire situation not be weighing heavily on his mind?_

He hadn't thought of it quite like that, to be honest. He had seen Kira's skittishness as a defensive, protective response, not as one of shame. Kira's jumping at shadows, his complete avoidance of places where Toshiro frequented made sense now.

_It __should,_ his dragon sounded impossibly smug. _Honestly, __little __one. __For __a __genius, __you __fail __horribly __at __interpersonal __relationships._


	36. Formal

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Formal<span>

Upon his promotion to the captaincy, Captain Yamamoto had suggested (read: ordered) that he meet with the Captains of the Seventh and Thirteenth, to teach him about courtly protocols. Apparently these two specific Captains were masters of such graces, and would mold him into something more socially acceptable.

He couldn't deny that he needed the help. Sure, he had been from the highest of the Rukon districts - but it was still the Rukon. He might as well have been gutter-trash to the clan-born members of the Gotei 13. His bearing had improved through his time at Academy, but he was still nowhere near ready to be introduced formally at Court.

So, a week after his promotion, he found himself standing outside the gates to the Seventh's barracks. He had only briefly met the massive Captain at his promotion ceremony, and had been rather intimidated by size difference. The masked man easily had a full five feet over him. _He __could __probably __step __on __me __and __not __even __notice_, he thought as he tried to suppress his nerves.

Hyorinmaru chuckled in his mind.

The door cracked open, and Lieutenant Iba stuck his head out, sunglasses flashing in the early day's light. "Ah, Captain. Welcome to the Seventh, sir. If you'll follow me?"

That didn't leave him with a lot of a choice. So much for trying to escape.

Iba himself was a fairly tall and broad. In fact... perhaps everyone in the division was a hulking brute? As he progressed farther through the barracks, he solidified this hypothesis. Not a single Shinigami he saw was under six feet tall.

_Master, __the __entire __Division __does __not __exist __to __give __you __a __Napoleon __complex._

"I don't believe you," he muttered.

Iba peered down at him. Toshiro was so short he could almost, _almost_ see under the rims of his ever-present sunglasses. "Did you say something, sir?"

Great. Now the Seventh was going to think he was insane, to boot. "No, just clearing my throat, Lieutenant."

_Good __cover_.

He had the sudden urge to use his katana as a letter opener, or to leave it out in the snow. _How __do __you __feel __about __rust, __Hyorinmaru?_

The dragon didn't sound too affronted by the threat. _Really, __little __one? __Such __jokes __are __below __you._ He guffawed, tickled by his own cleverness.

Toshiro grit his teeth as Lieutenant Iba opened a door for him, waving him inside.

The hulking form of Captain Komamura stood behind what looked like a formal dining table, complete with candelabras. _Just __what __exactly __did __I __get __myself __into?_

"Captain Hitsugaya," he gave a formal bow from the waist… and still towered over Toshiro. By a lot.

He returned the bow, curious as to what this "lesson" was going to consist of. The table wasn't set anything like a traditional table should be set, with forks and knives instead of chopsticks.

The senior Captain gestured for him to sit, and they did, Toshiro forcing himself to not swing his dangling legs.

"Captain Hitsugaya," Komamura began, his voice tinny beneath his mask. "I've been asked to give you a tutorial on courtly behaviors. Recently, there has been a move towards modernization. Trends are now favoring more… Western… customs. I will begin with dining customs, and Captain Ukitake will be in shortly to expound upon them," The huge man sounded derisive.

He bobbed his head in acknowledgement and sat back to listen

* * *

><p>Ukitake had to suppress a giggle when he walked in, some hours later. Seeing hulking Captain Komamura sitting with a delicate teacup in his hand, pinky sticking straight out, was a priceless sight.<p>

Toshiro growled at the newcomer, trying to force his pinky to stay straight while _not_ having his elbows on the table.

Hyorinmaru was also enjoying the affair. _How __can __you __be __so __coordinated __with __a __sword, __but __defeated __by __a __teacup?_

He was not about to dignify that with a response.


	37. Casual

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

Cookies to all the reviews this far. I think I've managed to respond to every review. Most of my stories don't get many/any reviews since I don't tend to focus on main characters often – a lot of my Naruto fics are based on nameless or background characters. It's really quite inspiring to get reviews in the quantities I've gotten.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Casual<span>

It came as a bit of a surprise when Captain Kyoraku Shunsui approached him after a Captain's meeting, some weeks after the tea-ceremony lesson.

He surprised it really shouldn't have. Ukitake and Kyoraku were as close as brothers (though rumors suggested there might be more), and anything one knew the other was sure to know about in short order. His only concern was what, exactly, Kyoraku wanted.

His bow was stiff – it was early and he had been up late finishing paperwork _darling_ Matsumoto hadn't. All he wanted was an hour or so to nap in, and the odds of that happening… well, snowballs stood better chances in hell.

Kyoraku grinned at him. "Captain Hitsugaya, good morning!" he beamed beneath his wide-brimmed straw hat, his teeth gleaming like a secondary sun.

"Captain Kyoraku," he acknowledged, wishing he had a pair of sunglasses to dampen the view.

"Please, please. We're friends, right? Call me Shunsui." He motioned him forward, and the pair began walking towards the gate of the First. Kyoraku's flamboyantly pink haori fluttered lazily in the breeze. "Anyway, how are you holding up? It's not easy being a new Captain, after all."

_Oh __great. __He__'__s __checking __to __make __sure __I__'__m __not __going __to __have __a __nervous __breakdown_.

"I've adjusted well enough, I'd say," he began, not wanting to go too far on the defensive. That was sure to alert the other man of his unceasing terror that he'd somehow screw up.

Kyoraku peered down at the shorter man. He doubted Hitsugaya noticed it, likewise with anyone who dealt with him on a daily basis, but his shoulders were slumped, noticeable stress-lines marred his brow, and bags rode prominently under his eyes. "Is that so?" He didn't think he'd get any real information volunteered, but it had been worth a shot.

He half paid attention as Toshiro changed the topic deftly to recruitment. That was fine. He had a plan on how to loosen the younger man up.

* * *

><p>"Lieutenant Matsumoto?"<p>

She spun around, surprised at the deep voice calling her name. She stopped to allow the Captain of the Eighth to catch up.

"Sir? Is there anything I can help you with?"

He beamed. "Lieutenant, there most certainly is."

Toshiro grit his teeth. She had to be involved in this.

Killing his Lieutenant would probably be frowned upon.

Probably.

There was a chance though…

A pair of his lower-seated officers walked past him, dressed in what would be considered casual clothes. _In __the __World __of __the __Living_. There were Hawaiian shirts in his division. And plaid. And argyle. Someone would be suffering for this.

And then his Lieutenant _sashayed_ out of their office. Her denim shirt was at least modest… by her standards. And most of her cleavage was in her shirt.

Then he saw it.

Offensive.

_Huge_.

Technicolored.

The banner stretched from one end of his office to the other. Streamers hung from it, as did little strings of beads and lights.

_Casual __Friday, __huh? _Hyorinmaru sounded far too amused.

* * *

><p>Ukitake looked up from his teacup, frowning at the grinning Kyoraku. "Shunsui… what, exactly, did you talk Lieutenant Matsumoto into doing?" he asked as her name echoed across the entirety of the Soul Society.<p> 


	38. Close

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

This and the following 3 chapters are closely related. Just an FYI. Set sometime during the beginning of the Arrancar threat, sometime between Orihime's rescue from Hueco Mundo and the introduction of Amagai Shusuke. I'd put time as somewhere between the end of August and the beginning of September. The events of Chapter 34 happened roughly a week prior. This is also slightly more serious than the past few prompts.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

This and the following 3 chapters are closely related. Just an FYI. Set sometime during the beginning of the Arrancar threat, sometime between Orihime's rescue from Hueco Mundo and the introduction of Amagai Shusuke. I'd put time as somewhere between the end of August and the beginning of September. The events of Chapter 34 happened roughly a week prior. This is also slightly more serious than the past few prompts.

* * *

><p><span>Close<span>

He was stuck in the World of the Living. Again. Swell. Just swell. Damned Kurotsuchi and all his detectors.

Something big _might_ be happening soon, he had said.

Something _potentially_ big, he added, with assorted finger wiggles. Toshiro suspected that the man made such creepy gestures, not to punctuate his words, but to further creep people around him out.

So Captain Yamamoto told him to pack for a few weeks and see what was going on. He apparently had forgotten that Kurotsuchi had a terrible track record for predicting the occurrence of _rain_, let alone anything of great importance.

Assuming something was actually going to happen, he had been sent out. With minimal backup. Fantastic. And Matsumoto was still back home, technically running the Tenth in his absence. He was dreading going back, and he had only been gone... two hours. If his hair wasn't already white, he'd have suspected Yamamoto was toying with him.

* * *

><p>He made a quick pit-stop at Urahara's stop to pick up his gigai. He would have preferred to just leave it at the Kurosaki household, but with Rukia and Renji already storing theirs in Ichigo's closet, there just wasn't space.<p>

He gave Urahara and Tessai a quick heads up, summarizing the information he had, and set off for the Kurosaki Clinic. He made decent time, and actually ran into Ichigo on his way from school.

The teenager looked fairly-well strung out, bags prominent under his eyes. "Yo, Toshiro. Coming to visit?" He coughed into his fist.

"It's Captain Hitsugaya, Kurosaki." Old habits would die hard, adopted into the family or no. "And yes, for a week or two. Captain Kurotsuchi seems to think there might be something coming, and I've been ordered to keep an eye out."

Ichigo coughed again as he nodded, scuffing his sneaker along the sidewalk. "There's been an increase in Hollow activity lately, it seems. Or maybe, with Rukia back in the Soul Society, I'm just noticing it more."

"You look like crap." Not pulling any punches, he gave his counterpart a pointed look.

He looked chagrined. "Tell me about it. Haven't slept a full night in weeks, and I think I picked up something from Keigo in school." He pushed open the gate to the sidewalk and motioned Toshiro to precede him. "Dad is out of town on a business trip for a few days, and the girls are over at some friend's house for the weekend. Hope you don't mind sandwiches for dinner."

Peanut butter was a new and amazing experience. Ichigo had tossed him some bread, a knife, and a jar and told him to go for it. It didn't take much to figure out how to smear it across the bread, though he gave it a cautious sniff. It's consistency was unlike anything he could put his finger on, regardless of how much Ichigo assured him that it was quite edible.

He was converted after his first bite.

Ichigo didn't eat, blanching when Toshiro offered to make him a sandwich. "Probably not a good idea," he grumbled, trying not to look at the food on the table, as he made his way towards the stairs. "I'm going to go lay down for a bit."

By the time Toshiro made it upstairs, Ichigo was snoring softly, congested judging from the amount of noise he was making. He was sprawled haphazardly on top of his blankets, fully dressed. Kon was sitting on his nightstand. If a stuffed animal could look agitated, he would have been the poster child for it.

Beady eyes peered up at him. "What's wrong with him?" his normal bluster was gone, concern replacing it.

He shrugged. "He said he might have picked something up from someone in school."

The stuffed lion began pacing the length of the nightstand. "He hasn't been sleeping. Nightmares, and Hollow attacks. Every night."

Toshiro shrugged, uncomfortable. This was way out of his normal experience; maybe if he didn't poke at it, it would go away.

Ichigo chose that moment to groan, curling into a fetal ball and draping an arm over his head, presumably to blot out any light. Kon jumped from the nightstand to the bed, perching above him on the pillow.

"He seems really hot."

Toshiro glared at the Mod Soul and obediently stepped closer, waving his hand in the general direction of Ichigo's forehead. _It does seem kind of hot_, he considered. Then again, he had no real experience with sickness. His frown deepened as the substitute tried to scrunch himself into a smaller ball.

"Kon, can you go to Urahara's and see if he can help with this at all?"

The Mod Soul looked at him like he had three heads. "It's going to take forever to get there like this," he griped, jumping off the bed regardless.

He sighed and grabbed for the stuffed animal. Cramming his hand down Kon's throat, just like he'd seen Ichigo do countless times before, he found what he was looking for. Green ball in hand, the stuffed animal went limp. He suppressed a shudder as he popped the ball down.

The strange _disconnected_ feeling of his spirit form leaving the gigai always gave him a bit of a chill. Giving his gigai over to Kon's attentions made it that much worse.

The Mod Soul grinned at him, weirding the Captain out just a little. Seeing such an uninhibited expression on his own face – with him not in the body – was just beyond strange.

"Go."

Actually behaving for once, Kon was out the window half a second later.

* * *

><p>Ichigo's fever went up not long after the Mod Soul had left. Hyorinmaru had rippled against the back of his mind, concerned. He had reassured the dragon, using just a tendril of his reiatsu to lower the temperature in the room.<p>

The substitute was sweating profusely though, mouth slightly open, wheezing. It had taken a bit of doing, but Toshiro had managed to get his school clothes off and get him laying straight on the bed. He racked his brain for anything he could do until Urahara showed up.

_He had been little, new to the Soul Society. He had been constantly hungry, and the hunger made him weak and sick. _

_It had snowed early that winter. He had been shuffling along a forest trail, bare feet covered by the loose powder. All he remembered was dizziness, the two of everything he saw, and the resignation that he didn't care what happened any more. He had stumbled and fallen, face-first into a deep drift. Too weak to push himself out, he had lain there, unable to care anymore. _

_The next thing he had known, he was on a futon, sweating and freezing at the same time. A cold washcloth had appeared on his head, and he had whimpered at the touch, his sensitive skin both protesting and welcoming the touch. It had not taken him as long time to recover as she had originally, the woman he knew as Granny had told him well after the fact. He had been lucky she had been on her way home from the market when she had seen him fall. _

Kon and Urahara didn't take nearly as long to arrive as he had originally feared.

The former Captain stepped through the window gracefully, his clogs soundless. His eyes were shaded in his normal fashion, but there was definitely a smile as he took in the sight.

The Tenth's Captain was sitting, obviously agitated, besides the substitute, his chair tipped back against the wall. Ichigo was under his normal blankets, with an extra throw on top, with a damp washcloth across his forehead. He was flushed and still wheezing, just as Kon had described.

Kisuke had opened his door to see Hitsugaya's gigai standing there with Kon in it, and had known it was serious. There was no way the Captain was going to let the rambunctious Mod Soul in it unless it was. He had grabbed a few random necessities from the bathroom and rushed across town, dragging Kon along with him.

He couldn't help but to smile though. "Captain, you do realize that humans pick up illnesses like this all the time, yes?"

Toshiro glowered. "How am I suppose to know that? It might be something like… I don't know, a flesh-eating virus!"

His eyes opened in delight. "If you do happen to come across one of those, please feel free to give me a call. Those are fun. Unfortunately for me, but rather fortunately for Mr. Kurosaki here, he has something far more mundane. He has a mildly weakened immune system from the stress and lack of sleep he's been experiencing. It might be a mild case of the flu, but it's probably a simple virus."

"Meaning what?" He was not going to show relief in front of the former Captain. He was not.

_At least it isn't something flesh-eating_, Hyorinmaru chimed in.

It took all his effort not to face-palm. _You and I will talk later, dragon._

A sign of insanity was hearing voices, at least according to Captain Unohana. What about maniacally giggling zanpakutos? That surely couldn't smack of sanity.

Urahara fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a bottle filled with a pink, syrupy solution. "Force a few tablespoons of this down his throat every few hours. He'll be fine in a day or two."

Toshiro fumbled with the bottle. Robitussin. It looked gross. He twisted the cap off and took a cautious sniff.

And gagged. It smelled worse than one of the Twelfth's labs. Or the public restroom at the sake bar Matsumoto frequented. Combined. He was suppose to pour this down Ichigo's throat?

Urahara grinned and waved, climbing over the windowsill. "Call me around noon if the fever hasn't broken!" he singsonged as he vanished.

He slumped, head in his free hand. Through a cracked eye, he read the directions on the back of the bottle. _Two tablespoons every four hours._ This, frankly, was going to be a shitty night. He let the chair fall back onto all four legs and stood, only to be faced with Kon, still in his bottle.

The Mod Soul offered him a medicine measuring cup, grinning ear-to-ear.

Yep. Shitty night.

* * *

><p>He must have dozed off sometime in the early, pre-dawn hours, because the last thing he remembered after getting back into his gigai was pouring some of the foul medication down Ichigo's throat.<p>

Bleary eyes didn't quite want to cooperate as the dawn's light crept through the window. His back protested the night in the uncomfortable chair, and he was mildly curious as to how he had ended up with a blanket draped over him.

Ichigo was still buried in his nest of blankets, only he must have gotten up while Toshiro had been passed out - his shirt was different than he last remembered.

He couldn't help a sigh of relief.

Even if whatever-it-was Ichigo had eneded up to be harmless and not life-threatening, he had lost too many friends to lesser things gone wrong. A sore back was a fair tradeoff.


	39. Rock

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved. Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Wow. Just wow. Thanks to everyone who reviewed or otherwise gave feedback on the last chapter. It is very much appreciated.

Behold! More serious!Isshin. This is closely connected with Chapter 34 (Stable), and will likewise connect with the following two chapters - Paper and Scissors. This is again, slightly more serious, because well, quite frankly, serious!Isshin is fun to write.

* * *

><p><span>Rock<span>

Isshin Kurosaki was many things to a great many people.

Doctor, running his clinic. He'd take in hardship cases without a thought, patching them up and sending them on their way with no thought of recompense. He was surprisingly good with children, either sick or injured, never talking down to them or being condescending. Later, after the revelation that he had formerly been a Shinigami, he opened his clinic's door to those injured from the Soul Society. Captain Unohana had contacted him, and after a brief discussion, a partnership was formed. Yamada Hanataro was given command over all issues healing-related in the World of the Living. Urahara gave him one of the spare rooms behind his shop, and the Seventh Seat quit his job at the convenience store for one at the clinic.

Father, for an ever-growing family. His biological children didn't care – their father deserved happiness of his own. If adding children to his family eased his pain from whatever past sins he had, then so be it. Rukia was the first adoptee added, followed shortly thereafter by Kon. The Mod Soul had been thrilled – family was something he had never expected to have. Toshiro was added by general consensus of the family, fitting in well as the second son. Matsumoto became his eldest daughter, though only after Toshiro had threatened his life if he ever looked at her cleavage again. The Viazords became close – not quite children, but most certainly cousins. Hanataro became another son, though he was convinced that Isshin had mental issues. Renji and Shuhei became additional children, as did Shiba Ganju. Kenpachi had appeared one day out of nowhere, and Isshin had fallen in love with Yachiru. The tiny Lieutenant, for her part, enjoyed being showered in attention and stuffed animals. Kenpachi was less than thrilled to have to carry them all back with him.

Brother, to the other Captains. When time permitted, and there were no pressing disasters to deal with, Ukitake, Kyoraku and Komamura would appear for tea. Kuchiki made rare appearances, only when Rukia pleaded, but a standing invitation was there for him. Brother, too, to the other exile from the Soul Society. Neither of them would ever admit it, but Urahara Kisuke often sought out the elder Kurosaki to talk and to drink, when his stress got too bad. The door to the Kurosaki house was never locked – Isshin made that abundantly clear to everyone who entered.

Rock and confidant, to anyone who needed one. Lieutenant Kira of the Third had been by more than a few times to speak to him, always leaving in substantially better spirits. Toshiro was glad to see him getting himself back together – he had originally feared that the damage Ichimaru had done was permanent. Muguruma Kensei occasionally stopped by as well, though what the two men spoke of was unknown. Toshiro often wished Momo would come and speak to Isshin, but when he asked, she refused, insisting there was no need for her to. It was her insistence that there was nothing wrong that set him off that day.

* * *

><p>It had been family-dinner night. For a normal family, that would be no big deal. For the Kurosaki family… it required that every available table surface on the lower level of the house be used to eat upon. He had fought with Momo earlier – or rather, she had told him off and to basically stop harping on and bothering her. His mood wasn't the greatest, and dealing with the entire extended family was taxing to the max.<p>

And yes, it was the entire extended family. It had been decided that, since Aizen was sure to be making a move soon, that one big get-together before everything went to hell was in order. Urahara and Tessai had bought Ururu and Jinta, and a Lieutenant or Captain represented most of the Divisions. The only exceptions were the First, and the Fifth (Momo had refused, her careless words being crueler than any Toshiro could remember her saying). Kurotsuchi Nemu had actually made it into the World of the Living for once, under the guise of attending a Shinigami Woman's League meeting. Uyuru, Orihime, and Sado had all made it as well, making the house nothing short of a zoo.

He made it through dinner silently, glad that no one tried to draw him into discussion. Matsumoto was too busy trying to hit on Kira, thankfully, to notice. He excused himself quickly after the meal ended, disappearing to his normal retreat: the roof.

He scarce paid attention to the people below him leaving, caught up in thought as the moon and stars came out. Momo… he didn't know how to deal, how to associate with her anymore. In her eyes, Aizen was the victim, the golden boy, taking a voluntary exile from the place he loved in an effort to save it. She honestly and truly believed that it was Ichimaru and Tosen that had been the masterminds of the entire affair, no matter what evidence was presented to her.

Her shutting him out completely, especially after the Kusaka Affair (as Hyorinmaru called it), was killing him. He had done everything he could think of to keep her safe, and now she was throwing that back in his face, insisting that fallacies were truth. He knew that Captain Unohana was at her wits end with her, too – her devotion to Aizen over all others, even after his shikai's hold on her had been broken, did not suggest of complete sanity.

So lost in thought was he that he didn't notice his companion until the gentle press of his reiatsu pressed against his own.

"Captain," he ducked his head in acknowledgement to Isshin, who himself was looking up at the stars.

A moment later, he looked over at Toshiro with his patented half-smile, choosing to ignore that Toshiro had chosen to go formal. "What's wrong, Toshiro? You didn't say a word at dinner, and you look like your mind is somewhere else completely."

He sighed. "Because I am. I…" he dropped his head into his hands, feeling defeat break over him like a wave. "I just don't' know how to deal with her anymore."

Who _her_ was remained unspoken; Ichigo and Rukia had filled him in on most of the previous events.

Isshin looked back up at the stars. "Then don't. I'm not saying to cut all ties with her, because you still need to get along as fellow officers. Just don't go out of your way to speak to her. If you pass each other, acknowledge each other, do the pleasantries thing, and be done with it. Don't go seeking her out."

"I don't know if I can do that!" The vehemence of his protest surprised him. "I – I don't know if I can let her go like that."

The older man gave him a knowing look. "You're afraid to lose her."

He paused, nodded, and then heaved a shuddering sigh, looking defeated.

Isshin leaned back on his elbows, looking back to the stars. "You're assuming you haven't already though."

He hadn't thought of it that way, in the past tense. He had been working on the assumption that there was a way to fix Momo, to go back to the relationship they had before Aizen escaped from the Soul Society. Going back, he reconsidered. Momo hadn't burned her bridges with him; she had nuked them.

_Little__one_, Hyorinmaru sounded hesitant, a rarity. _This__is__through__no__fault__of__your__own.__You__must__stop__suffering__for__something__that__is__not__necessarily__your__choice._

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Toshiro. This is her choice to do this," Isshin was saying, echoing his zanpakuto. The corner of his mind dedicated to snarky comebacks wondered if the eldest Kurosaki had some magical kido to mind-link with his katana before he quashed it. "You've extended your hand. Acknowledge her when appropriate, but don't go chasing after her attentions. It's hard to lose friends, but sometimes it works out for the best."

Toshiro shivered, not entirely from the chill night air, and nodded slowly.

"No," Isshin said suddenly, looking back over to him. "It never completely stops hurting, not completely."

He nodded, now leaning back on his elbows to look at the moon. It was mostly full tonight, and looking at it bought him back to his younger days in the Rukongai, before he had Hyorinmaru, when he would sneak out and just watch the stars. He let out another shuddering sigh, calming himself. "It would be too easy if it did, I suppose," he allowed.

He should have been paying attention, for in half a second, the serious expression melted away into his normally animated one. Toshiro ended up in a headlock, sputtering in shock as Isshin jumped down to the back patio.

"Now that all that is over," he declared, dragging the Tenth's Captain behind him into the kitchen, "Yuzu was quite upset that you didn't eat any of her curry."


	40. Paper

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved. Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

I think I've managed to respond to every review - if not, my most humble apologies, and I'll try to catch those that I did miss.

Slightly AU in that Yuzu and Karin are both fully aware of what their brother and Toshiro are, as well as the assorted folks who are always going in and out. Also, both girls can see spirits.

* * *

><p><span>Paper<span>

Yuzu was the family's record keeper.

Scheduling was her exclusive domain, and woe befall anyone who interfered with her. Each morning at breakfast she'd have a to-do list for each member of the family, as well as for anyone who just happened to have crashed for the night.

Toshiro had no idea how she did it. He had nearly fallen off his seat the first morning. He had come down for breakfast, eyes not quite fully open yet, and had been surprised to find a folded slip of paper in front of his plate. His name had been scrawled in a delicate script on it, and he looked at it curiously.

Ichigo, who had been behind him, had one likewise by his setting. He flipped it open and glanced at it, frowning.

"Yuzu, I thought my dental appointment was next week?"

His sister appeared from the kitchen proper, spatula in one hand. Her free hand dug into her apron pocket and pulled out a tiny date book. "No, today at 4. You really need to pay more attention to this sort of thing," she sounded disapproving.

Ichigo continued to gripe at his sister as Toshiro poked his own paper. When no explosions issued, he unfolded it carefully.

His name was written again on top of the page, and a detailed schedule of his day's activities followed, each preceded by a bullet in the shape of a flower. Even his planned meeting with Madarame and Ayasegawa after school was listed.

He gaped at Yuzu's back. _How__… __how __did __she __know?_

Hyorinmaru also seemed puzzled. _Perhaps __it__'__s __a __new __kido?_ he hazarded a guess. _How __else __could __she __have __known about your meeting with those clowns from the Eleventh?_

Toshiro scoffed at the dragon. _Oh __yeah, __that__'__s __realistic. __Would __that __be __a __bakudo __or __a __hado, __oh-most-wise-dragon?_

The zanpakuto's spirit refused to rise to the bait for once. _I__'__m __being __serious, __little __one. __She __had __no __way __of __contacting__ –_

"Toshiro," the object of their conversation still had yet to turn around. "It's rude to talk to your zanpakuto at the breakfast table."

His jaw dropped. "How – what – I mean – but you never-"

He was saved as Ichigo crammed a glass of orange juice down his throat. Sputtering, he nodded his thanks as Yuzu pivoted, dumping a plate of toast onto the table. He looked at her in a new light, one of sheer terror, as she smiled sweetly at him.

He had seen that smile before. Matsumoto used that smile when he was being stubborn or willful for no real reason. That smile promised impending doom.

"You won't be late for your meeting, will you, Toshiro?"

He shook his head rapidly. "N-no, thank you for reminding me of it!"

And just like that, the tension was broken. Normal Yuzu was back, smiling happily. "Good!" she chimed, snatching a piece of toast for herself.

* * *

><p>"How does she do that?" he demanded of Ichigo as they escaped out the front door a few minutes later.<p>

Ichigo had the good grace to shrug. "Not sure, but she's always done it. Zangetsu thinks that it's some weird forbidden kido or something."


	41. Scissors

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo.

* * *

><p><span>Scissors<span>

He had long wondered how exactly Ichigo managed to get anything done with his insane father. Yuzu was sweet (and occasionally terrifying), but most of the time, she was a total flake. Yuzu might have scheduled the family, but Karin was the driving force that actually got them to their appointments and doing what it was they needed to do.

It was early. How early he wasn't entirely sure since that would imply that he had opened his eyes, but it was definitely early. For some unknown reason, someone had decided to start drumming on the bedroom door.

"Wake up, you lazy slackers!"

Ichigo rolled off the bed and sidestepped his futon, yanking the door open with a look that threatened death on his face. Karin was already fully dressed in her soccer gear, her foot atop her ball. "What?" he croaked, glowering.

Karin loomed at the door, looking far taller than her 4'4". She looked livid. "You mean you forgot that you promised to help my soccer team practice?" her voice was low, modulated. It was a sure sign of impending doom.

"That was today?" Ichigo scratched the back of his head. "Are you sure?"

Toshiro tried to burrow under his blanket as the force of nature known as Kurosaki Karin went off in an explosion of thrown fists and words that he was pretty sure were inappropriate for her to say.

Ichigo was down for the count a few seconds later, twitching as his sister replaced her soccer ball with his head. "Well, Toshiro?"

He was up, clean clothes in hand in a flash. "I'll be ready in a few minutes." He had no desire to end up in Ichigo's position.

An hour later had the entire family, plus Toshiro and Tatsuki, on the soccer field. They had been milling peacefully until Karin had appeared in a swirl of flying leaves.

"Run faster!" she demanded as she chased them up and down the field. 'Wind sprints' she had called them.

Toshiro was convinced she had been possessed.

"Why can't I just shunpo?" he had asked innocently.

The light in her eyes flickered wildly as she turned what Ichigo had termed her 'death glare' on him. Tatsuki – brave, wonderful Tatsuki – was hiding behind Isshin, who was in turn hiding behind Yuzu.

"What did you say?"

"Can't we just shunpo?"

In his mind's eye, Hyorinmaru face palmed.

The half pivot of Karin's foot was the only notice he got as she sprung at him, and he dodged madly to evade her grasp. She wasn't about to back down, either, and as he swung wide to head back down the field, he realized he might have made a tactical mistake.

_Little one… I don't think she actually_ meant_ for you to answer that_.


	42. Cook

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

domestic!Tessai incoming. Much love to everyone who's taken the time to review to this point.

Also – spewing out as many words as I can for NaNoWriMo. Current word count: 33802, plus this story, and I have two days left. Can I do it? Maybe. I lucked out with the next two days off, so it's quite possible.

* * *

><p><span>Cook<span>

He discovered quite by accident that Tessai was as masterful a cook as Orihime was not.

The first few nights he spent in the World of the Living were at Orihime's house, only because Matsumoto had demanded that he stay with her. He ate there exactly once - for breakfast, she had tried to feet him waffles smothered in tofu and bean paste. After that, he politely declined all offerings of food, making up excuses.

"It's bad for my figure."

"It's against my religion to eat before noon."

"Captain Unohana insists that I eat a carrot-only diet."

He wasn't entirely sure how, but she believed him every time.

Hyorinmaru was amused that he, a brave and strong Captain of the Gotei 13 - the youngest Captain in their history, in fact - was terrified of mystery food.

It was a rainy Saturday that found him outside of Urahara's shop, bedraggled and hungry. He was desperate to the point of popping Soul Candy for sustenance, though it meant he had to crawl back into his gigai after each one. Maybe Urahara could spare him a bowl of ramen or soup - he was, after all, housing Renji.

Ururu had opened the door, her big eyes framed by their normal bangs. "Captain... Hitsugaya?" she asked, though she knew full-well who it was.

"Hello, Ururu," he managed to not growl at her. Being snarky to Urahara's mis-matched family wasn't going to get him food. "Is Urahara in?"

Tessai's head appeared from around the corner. "Hello, Captain. No, I'm afraid Mr. Kisuke is out on an errand. Can I help you?" The rest of his body followed the head.

Somehow, the giant man had found an apron (complete with pink frills) that fit his frame.

_I bet that Quincy boy made it_, Hyorinmaru chuckled. _Seems like his kind of thing_.

"Hello, Tessai," he ignored the dragon. "I was wondering if you had any snackfood or anything for sale?"

The giant peered at him, glasses flashing in the shop's light. "We do, but I also have a batch of brownies about to come out of the oven, if you're interested."

It took every ounce of his willpower not to drool. "B-brownies?"

Ururu grinned, the expression brightening her otherwise sallow face. "Mr. Tessai makes wonderful brownies. Stay for tea with us, Captain?"

Hitsugaya Toshiro, genius known throughout the Soul Society, had already seated himself and had a napkin across his lap. "I'd love to."


	43. Clean

A/N – More shorts, rejoice! Pairings are to be determined, depends on how I feel as they go. Also, Hitsugaya will be a constant throughout; other characters will come and go – that's more as a challenge to myself – keeping him involved.

I own nothing, blahblah. Prompts come from SilverEmerald-DAS on DA.

So, I finished NaNoWriMo with some 45k+ words – just under where I needed to be. All in all, I'm pretty happy with how I did, considering it was my first year, and that I had a minor family emergency in the last three days that kept me from writing anything. Eh, it happens. Next year I'll be better prepared and have a better idea on how to pace myself.

* * *

><p><span>Clean<span>

Captain Unohana Retsu never came across as terrifying.

But she was.

Toshiro was not the only Captain who would rather face a band of Arrancars over an angry Unohana. Even Kenpachi would go out of his way to avoid her when she was in one of her moods. Kuchiki Byakuya looked like a docile puppy, compared to her.

No one knew who had done it. No one was about to step forward to admit responsibility at this point, either. Committing sepuku would be faster. And less messy.

He had only seen Unohana lose it once, and that was more than enough.

He had been in the Fourth, getting some ribs cracked by Kenpachi fixed, when the commotion started. The young healer at his side – the Tenth or Eleventh seat, if he remembered correctly, had looked up, face suddenly as white as snow. A wave of reiatsu, blacker than the darkest night, pulsed over the entire Division.

The young man had stuttered his apologies and gathered his materials,then disappeared in a tiny puff of smoke. Toshiro frowned, pulling his haori back on. What the devil was going on?

_I don't like this, little one,_ Hyorinmaru spoke up, his body coiling in his mind.

He had to agree. A member of the Fourth, not staying to make small-talk and to make sure their patient was properly patched up? Unheard of. And what was that black reiatsu, pulsing?

He slung his sheath over his shoulder, one hand lightly on the fabric for a bit of moral support. He cautiously stuck his head into the hallway, finding it deserted. The black reiatsu waves rippled up the hallway like black electricity, and the sheer soul pressure was enough to knock someone over. What the hell was going on?

Creeping down the hallway was nothing short of surreal – he felt like he had been transported into one of those terrible human horror movies that Matsumoto and her group of friends liked to watch. He ducked from doorway to doorway at Hyorinmaru's suggestion, keeping his own reiatsu carefully wrapped around him. What was this malevolence? Was it a Hollow? It couldn't be, there was no way one could have spawned in the middle of the Fourth Division.

Was there?

No, it couldn't be. Impossible.

_Then what is it ?_ Hyorinmaru himself sounded unsure.

Toshiro shrugged as he took cover in a doorway. He was mildly surprised to find one Yamada Hanataro cowering, head between his knees. Ashen faced, he nearly leapt out of his skin as the Tenth's Captain skidded to a stop next to him. All he would say, in broken fragments, was "Captain Unohana."

Big help that was.

There was a single doorway at the end of the hall - the door to aforementioned Captain's office. It was opened just a hair, but the waves of reiatsu pulsed past it like it wasn't even there.

He left Yamada where he was, continuing his trip down the hallway. He crouched, and even tried smoothing his unruly hair - anything to make his profile smaller.

It was strange, being so apprehensive. He couldn't remember a time in the recent past where he had been like this. Heart rate increased, respiration heavy, sweaty palmed -

__Which I do ___not___ appreciate, little one___. _Hyorinmaru had very definite ideas on how he should be gripped, and "with wet, sweaty and nasty hands" was not on the list.

"Shut up, dragon," he muttered, pushing the door open just enough to slide into the dark room.

Captain Unohana sat behind her desk, hands fisted, a look of sheer doom on her face. A handful of papers sat atop her desk, in no particular order he could see from his angle.

"Er... Captain? Is there anything wrong?"

Never did her voice raise in volume. "Wrong? What ever could be wrong, Captain? My desk... someone has made it a _mess_." Utter loathing and disgust colored the one word, and Toshiro felt, for a moment, pure revulsion.

He had two options. He could ask his fellow Captain what the devil she was talking about, for if three loose papers constituted a "mess" - heaven help her if she ever walked into his own office - or, he could agree with her.

History is, after all, recorded by the victor.


End file.
